


Bratty Little Bastards: Autumn

by interflora



Series: Bratty Little Bastards [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Big Bang Challenge, M/M, Private School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:33:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 93,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interflora/pseuds/interflora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen Ackles hates coming in second. Jared Padalecki can’t stand being overlooked. So when the same guy makes them look like chumps by taking over the varsity lacrosse team and ranking first in the junior class at the private, elite Eldridge Academy, overachieving computer genius Jensen and popular athlete Jared decide to put aside their differences. Kind of.</p><p>-------------------------------------------------</p><p>Jared Padalecki’s mouth is always open.<br/>It’s one of the few things Jensen’s noticed about him during Calculus. Also that he’s a massive douchebag and late for class pretty much every day. Probably too busy bumping fists with the rest of the lacrosse team. Or the swim team. Or the baseball team.<br/>Padalecki’s been at and participated in every single school sporting event Jensen’s ever attended. He’s like some kind of supermutant megabro with enough time and energy to not just play, but exceed at every sport the school offers.<br/>So, naturally, Jensen doesn’t like him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a full post with art (and now a soundtrack!) go to my livejournal, http://interflorafic.livejournal.com/620.html  
> Thanks for checking BLB out and I hope you love it!

_I don’t care if it hurts_  
 _I wanna have control_  
 _I want a perfect body_  
 _I want a perfect soul_

Jared Padalecki’s mouth is _always_ open.

It’s one of the few things Jensen’s noticed about him during Calculus. Also that he’s a massive douchebag and late for class pretty much every day. Probably too busy bumping fists with the rest of the lacrosse team. Or the swim team. Or the baseball team.

Padalecki’s been at and participated in every singleschool sporting event Jensen’s ever attended. He’s like some kind of supermutant megabro with enough time and energy to not just play, but exceed at every sport the school offers.

So, naturally, Jensen doesn’t like him.

Jensen fidgets in his seat, watching the clock and wishing for the hundredth time that the Polish brick shithouse across the room wasn’t so huge because he’s blocking Jensen’s view of the sycamores outside. Padalecki’s staring at some point on the floor as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen with his leg bouncing up and down at a thousand miles an hour against his desk.

Jensen almost snorts out loud. It’s sort of cute, like watching a dog have a bad dream. Paws twitching and all.

Sure, it takes all types, but Padalecki’s kind of knuckle draggers have no place at a school with Eldridge’s rep. If he had half a brain he would’ve enrolled in public school. He’d be knee-deep in desperate cheerleaders and coaches lining up to kiss his ass without having to worry about flunking.

Not that it isn’t like that here. Padalecki’s popular for some reason—no one fucks with him, even if they’re confused as to why they like someone who treats them like shit on the bottom of his shoe; that sort of dubious attraction athletes have in high school.

Plus, Jared’s in the bottom quarter of their class. Mom and Dad Padalecki see to it that Jared stays enrolled with generous donations every autumn semester. It’s no secret that they’re loaded ‘cause his grandfather’s some hotshot rightwing politician in San Antonio.

All in all he’s the specific flavor of brainless jock that Jensen files under “bane of his existence.”

The only redeeming quality Jensen can find about him is that he’s not hard on the eyes. Kinda the opposite, truth be told. Padalecki’s looks alone will get him far in life. Jensen never really paid much attention to him until after sophomore year’s summer break, when the tall, mouthy kid in his gym class came back to school absolutely _built._ He’s only seventeen and could probably bench press Jensen one-handed.

And so what if that thought makes his mind go places other than limits and integration—

Jensen pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, tearing his mind away from tan skin and sweat to focus on the blackboard.

It’s nothing he can’t grasp within a couple of seconds. Calc is his second favorite subject after Computer Science. Solving limits brings clarity to Jensen. He loves the way the numbers seem to fall into place like a sentence of a foreign language. If it were, he’d be fluent right down to the accent.

Morgan asks for volunteers. No dice ‘til he offers extra credit which snaps both Jensen and Padalecki back to the real world. Jensen’s chosen over Jared, probably luckily for Jared.

Jensen works damn hard to keep his place at school. It’s his only ticket out of Pennsylvania and right now it’s looking bleak. Being ranked second in a class of two hundred isn’t anything to sneeze at, but he’s not first.

He would be, if Tom fucking Welling wasn’t in the picture.

 

****

 

Jensen Ackles is a total geek, but he gives grade A blowjobs.

Or at least that’s what Jared’s heard. Looking at that mouth, he’d believe it. And yeah, maybe he’s staring a little bit. Jared’s not gay, but hey, keeping an open mind is a virtue, right?

“Would anyone like to try to figure out the limit?” Dr. Morgan is holding up a piece of chalk like it’s the ticket to salvation. Which, as it happens, it is.

“Alright, then. For extra credit?”

Jared’s hand shoots in the air. Forget that he has no fucking clue what his teacher’s been on about for the past half hour. He _needs_ this grade. Straddling ineligibility is a royal pain in his ass.

Jensen beats him to it.

“Go ahead, Mr. Ackles.”

Jared rolls his eyes. Of course. Never mind that the kid’s sitting pretty on a 3.98 GPA or something. Jared’s not sure howhe knows that, only that it has to do with the fact that his graduating class of two hundred students is cutthroat. Rank is serious shit at Eldridge. Most people could rehearse the class standings by memory and probably do it backwards, too. All but a handful of Jared’s peers will be granted full rides to the Ivy League of their choice. The rest, like Jared, will get by on athletic scholarships and parents with deep pockets.

Jared slouches lower in his seat as the little know-it-all brushes past him to the board. Morgan smiles at his favorite student like the sun rises and sets out of the tailored ass of Jensen’s khakis. He doesn’t miss that Jensen returns it with an extra helping of smarm.

Ackles is such a fucking suck up.  More than a few rumors have circulated about him and certain male faculty members. Jared’s not sure if Jensen’s gay but a lot of the boarders at Eldridge end up flexible, especially when grades are in question.

Jensen sucks on a mint and writes out the equation. His brow furrows as he works. There’s not a single wrinkle in his uniform, tie knot perfectly in place at the throat of his Oxford. His dress pants are immaculate, maybe even pressed. Not that he cares. He just wonders how the dweeb does it. Probably has his mom iron his uniform for him when he goes home on the weekends. She probably tucks him in, takes off his glasses and puts them on the nightstand and reads _A Brief History of Time_ to her snot-nosed genius of a kid.

Jared comes to class from the locker room, six kinds of disheveled by the time he takes his seat.

“Nicely done, Jensen. I’ll check it off in my grading book.”

Jensen flushes, obviously pleased with himself. As if he wasn’t going to get it right. Prick.

When the bell rings three minutes later Jared’s first out the door, shouldering past his classmates in his hurry to get back to the gym. It sucks having eighth period on the second floor since he spends most of his time across campus either at the pool or in the locker room and gets extra laps if he’s late to practice and he’s due out on the field in fifteen minutes.

Jared breaks into a jog, stripping down as he goes. He shoves his jacket to the depths of his bag, then his tie. The crowd of students wearing navy blue uniform coats parts around him. It’s old hat for them after the last bell—it’s either move or be trampled by a herd of the biggest dudes in the school.

“Jay wait up!”

Jared doesn’t stop or slow but Chad catches up to him anyways, panting.

“Thanks, dickhead.”

“Just getting you in shape for the season,” Jared grins.

Chad’s half-dressed too, working at his belt buckle with one shoe already off.

“Isn’t Pellegrino picking a captain today?”

“Dunno. Guess so,” Jared puffs. Yes, Coach Pellegrino is, and it’s making him nervous as hell. Jared’s good at lacrosse, really good. He made varsity as a freshman. But his time’s spread thin between all his other team commitments, not to mention student council and his less-than-stellar academics.

“So? Congrats, buddy.”

“Shut up and run. We’ve got nine minutes.”

 They make the locker room with seven minutes to go. They drop the rest of their uniforms in record time, struggling with pads and bolting out the door to catch up with the team.

Lafferty’s already telling some lewd story that involves him and some girl from Hearst, the neighboring public school.

“He’s so full of shit,” Chad mumbles.

“Hmm?” Jared’s not really paying attention. He’s been thinking about this day since last year when David Boreanaz graduated, leaving captaincy up for grabs.

“Yeah, he was with me all last Friday.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t hang out that night ‘cause you were going home.”

“I, uh, did go home. Then I came back to school and we hung out,” Chad says.

Jared nods distractedly. Right now he couldn’t care less about Chad’s lies about his “thriving” social life. As if James Lafferty would actually hang out with him and enjoy it.

Matt drops back to talk to Jared.

“You ready to assume greatness, Padalecki?”

“Shut up, Cohen. Or I’m gonna make you do extra laps when I’ve got my shiny badge.”

“I think it’s actually an armband,” Matt grins.

“Yeah, yeah. C’mon, get moving before Pellegrino shows up.”

The three of them break into a light jog once they reach the track. If the team’s not moving by the time Pellegrino arrives to practice, it usually results in aptly named “suicides.”

The bleachers around the field are already packed with hangers-on waiting to see who makes Varsity captain.

Genevieve’s there, laughing with a group of her friends. Sandy’s not among them today, thank God. She and Jared have had so much back and forth bullshit the past year Jared wouldn’t care if they never spoke again. Besides, she’d dumped him to chase after half his lacrosse teammates— first Matt, then Steve Carlson, and, rumor has it, now Tom. That is, when Tom’s not with Genevieve Cortese.

Cortese is a pretty cool chick. She’s president of student council so Jared gets to work on most projects for the school with her. She’s in the year above Jared and way, _way_ out of his league. Like, on another planet out of his league. He can’t for the life of him understand how Tom’s managed to date her for as long as he has. It’s off and on but Gen hasn’t gone out with anyone else in the past two years.

She’s one of those girls who probably have planned days— get out of bed, have half a grapefruit or something then off to French tutors and charity events with her diplomat parents. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was already in an arranged marriage engagement and Tom was just a distraction.

Jared tears his eyes from her long, dark hair and picks up his pace while Chad swears from somewhere behind him.

“Not… all of us have… freakishly. Long. Legs!”

“Stop wasting your breath then,” Jared pants back.

Matt sniggers and the two of them catch up to the group of their teammates with Chad trailing in their wake.

“Alright, that’s good!” Pellegrino calls from the sidelines.

The team slows to a walk, thumping each other on the back and carrying on as they take their positions on the field. Jared plays midfield along with Matt and Steve. Tom, Mike Rosenbaum, and Brock Kelly make up the attackers while Chad and James drop back to fill two of the three defense spaces. The rest of the positions are taken by nervous underclassmen Jared’s never spoken to.

“You shaved your head?” Jared hears James ask Chad.

James Lafferty is kinda odd. He’s a senior and extremely popular even if he doesn’t mix much with people outside of the team. He’s blunt to the point of being rude most of the time, but he’s damn good at sports, especially basketball and lacrosse. He’s been on almost every team that Jared’s tried out for. He’s great at defense and right now that’s all Jared cares about.

“Yeah,” Chad grins and runs a hand over the blonde bristles. “Whatcha think?”

Lafferty considers him for a moment. “You look like a Q-Tip.”

Chad goes scarlet as the entire team doubles over in stitches at his expense.

“Ladies, settle down,” Coach Pellegrino drawls as he steps up to the sideline.

Jared runs through the drills with ease, barking at the midfield to step it up and feed the attackers. If he passes to Brock and Mike more than Tom it’s only because they happen to be open.

Open and not raging douchebags, anyway.

Pellegrino scribbles away on his clipboard. Every time his pen touches paper, Jared swears another drop of sweat runs down his back like it’s some fucked up version of a voodoo doll. Since it tends to dictate his fate, Jared has a grudging respect for that clipboard.

“Padalecki!” Coach calls from the sidelines. “Need a word.”

Chad slaps him on the back as he runs past and Jared crosses his fingers his best friend will trip. No such luck, but he does get a ball to the stomach a minute later.

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to speak to you about the captaincy position.”

Jared’s heart swells and he nods. This could be it; the break he’s been working his ass off for since he joined the team freshman year.

“Okay, what about it?”

“You’re a great player, Padalecki, no question about that.”

Jared’s stomach clenches.

“But—”

Aaaaand here it comes.

“With your other commitments and your grades being what they are…”

His gut feels like he jumped from a plane and only just realized he forgot a parachute. It’s not personal but it still sucks a whole lot.

“It’s okay, Coach. I get it,” Jared says hollowly.

He’s managed to say every single thing Jared was afraid of hearing in one sentence which is kind of impressive in a way that makes him want to bash his head on the bleachers.

“Tom’s had a great start to the season. He’s going to do well and I know you’ll support him one hundred percent.”

“Absolutely, Coach.”

Pellegrino narrows his eyes. “I’m serious, Padalecki. The team needs you two working together. You show me you deserve to come back as captain next season, get your grades up, and I’ll see where we stand.”

 

                *****

 

His teammates don’t have to ask what Pellegrino said to him. Even Chad’s not that stupid.

Tom smirks his way through the drills and laughs too loud at Lafferty’s stupid jokes. Jared gets through practice without breaking Tom’s jaw which is an accomplishment in itself.

He decides to walk the long way back to his dorm. He needs to get away from the team and doesn’t think he can face even Matt for at least a few hours. Matt’s pretty much the nicest guy he’s ever met and a great roommate, but Jared’s so angry he’d just make an ass out of himself without meaning to—it’d be like stepping on a kitten’s tail. Like, a _blind_ kitten’s tail. It’d only make him feel worse.

He’s never had a great amount of control over his temper, a side-effect of being the son of one of the sharpest-tongued women in the South and an uncompromising businessman who dabbles in casinos with a fraction of his considerable fortune. Jared’s a Padalecki straight through; can’t take the word “No” gracefully or otherwise.

He walks past the pond and fountain, still in his pads with his stick braced across his shoulders.

The cool air brings him back to himself and he sits at the base of a pine tree off the path. He likes the east coast seasons and Eldridge is nice this time of year, but soon the Pennsylvania winter will set in and it’ll be dark before five o’clock, leaving him itching for a Texas summer.

Fall here, however, means football games and off-campus keggers in costume. It means sneaking into college parties (Swarthmore, if they’re really lucky), gigs in Philly, and the annual shitfest that is Halloween at Eldridge. He’ll go to some county fairs with Matt, Danneel and Chad, get wasted and maybe get a blowjob behind a barn from a townie.

He’ll still kick ass at lacrosse and beat last year’s swim times. He’ll have at least one drunken hookup with Sandy he’ll regret before Christmas break and he’ll probably forbid Chad from speaking to him at least twice.

Not getting the captaincy isn’t the end of the world. Right?

He snorts and tugs up a handful of grass.

It’s only then that he realizes he has a perfect view of the parking lot and Tom Welling himself is starting up his way too expensive convertible.

Genevieve’s there too, leaning against the driver door and smiling.

Jared has a split second hope that a bird will shit on Tom or something, but Genevieve leans in to kiss him and gets into his car. Looks like they’re _on_ this week. They drive off in Tom’s Audi A5, future Prom King and Queen as Jared fights the urge to hurl.

He’s about to turn his attention back to destroying plants and brooding when another figure hurries across the asphalt, walking fast to a Corolla. Jared may not know the kid that well, but he’s seen him run in gym class enough to recognize those weird bowlegs.

Jensen Ackles is obviously pissed off. His shoulders are drawn tight, and it’s even more like he’s got a stick up his ass than usual.

Suddenly Jared has an idea.

He’s not going to stay pissed at Tom. He’s going to get even.

And he knows just the person who’s going to help him do it.

 

*****

 

Jensen’s been itching to get this paper back for a week. He read over it six times before submitting it to Dr. Dinwiddie, making absolutely sure it was his best work.

“Nice job, Jensen,” Dr. Dinwiddie nods as she glances up from her keyboard. “You’re improving.”

Jensen’s eyes go wide and he folds the paper in half. He doesn’t want to look too eager. “Thanks.”

He hurries out of the room and unfolds his essay, wondering if he could’ve possibly scraped a perfect score. Dinwiddie doesn’t give praise easily. Especially to him.

A red “92” jumps out at him from the top right corner of the page.

His desire to pull out his hair out by the roots and use it as kindling to light himself on fire because he just got _another A- by one fucking percentage point_ might be extreme. So he grins and folds his essay in half, then over again and again until it’s a square five pages thick in his pocket.

His phone vibrates and Jensen answers, still rocking the serial killer smile.

“Hello?”

“Hi honey, it’s me. How’s school?”

Jensen loves his mother. He’s not going to put her through watching her own son pitch himself off a cliff no matter how much he feels like it.

“Just fine.”

“That’s good. Listen, do you think you could swing home this weekend? Josh’s in town and he’s going to stop in for dinner on Saturday.”

Is that a twitch or has his eyelid always done that?

“Yes, Mom. I can do that.”

“Great, see you then! I hope you’re not working yourself too hard.”

“You know me, all about fun.”

Donna hesitates. “Jensen, seriously. I think coming home will be good for you.”

“I’m sure it will. Bye, Mom.”

He’s always been private about his mental breakdowns. Now seems like a lousy time to drag his family into his compulsiveness, especially since his mother’s been considering putting him in therapy again. Josh could give him a family discount or something with that shiny new Psych degree of his.

Jensen takes a deep breath and walks towards his dorm, gritting his teeth against the throb of an oncoming headache.

This place, with its high ceilings and spotlessly clean halls, its long windows and its history of excellence, has been his home for nearly three years. It’s never once been easy, but he can’t imagine going anywhere else. He wants to be with the best, and Eldridge is chock full of geeks, geniuses, and kids with influential families. Rumor has it the governor’s kids will be in the rising freshman class.

Eldridge has been around for a while, thriving on the money of richer Philadelphia suburbs like Media and Swarthmore. Every year it has a lottery to allow new students from nearby counties, but they’re only accepted if their grades are top notch. Most of the kids are boarders from other states, some as far away as California.

Jensen lives fairly close to campus, but still prefers to board in a dorm. He gets more work done, and the rooms are clean and comfortable—especially since he doesn’t have a roommate. He hasn’t been to public school since he was in elementary school in Texas. His mom and dad split before he could finish, and when he came east with Donna, she put him in the best schools she could afford. They’re not exactly rolling in it, but between his scholarships and Donna working more than one job, they do okay.

Besides, it’s not like Eldridge can’t afford to foot the bill. Even the hallways are well-decorated, the carpets the school’s trademark deep, dark blue and the walls decorate with portraits and pictures of past students. Towards Miss McNiven’s art room, there are some paintings that have been donated by alumni that are supposedly worth a pretty good chunk of change, being from nineteenth century Florence or something.

Jensen passes a trophy cabinet with a picture of the student council in it—the junior year picture with Padalecki and Sophia and the senior photo centered on Genevieve Cortese. Next to the pictures are several sports trophies that Padalecki probably helped win—football and lacrosse among them. Jensen’s own name is on a few of the framed certificates in the case, for winning scholarships and his “Outstanding Achievements” in the Mathematics department. His, Sophia, Misha, and Welling’s names are all on the list of National Honor Society inductees next to a picture of Welling receiving his Eagle Scout rank, wearing a medal for “Services to the Community.”

Jensen barely notices when the plush carpet ends and he’s walking on tile again, glancing down at his phone when he’s knocked out of his trance by getting shoulder-checked halfway across the hall.

Jensen’s gaze whips up to lock on Tom _fucking_ Welling half in his lacrosse uniform and out of breath, clutching a graded essay in his left hand. Jensen can’t get a good enough angle to see the number written at the top.

“Might wanna watch where you’re walking, man.”

Jensen realizes he’s staring. Possibly still twitching, too.

“It’s Ackles, right?

 As if he doesn’t fucking know. As if Jensen’s beneath his notice because he’s _second._

 Jensen grunts.

“Uh… sorry, again,” Tom shrugs, annoyed. As he breaks into a jog, he moves to shove his paper into his bag. He doesn’t notice when it falls out two seconds later.

Jensen walks towards it before he’s even consciously made a decision. It’s just programmed into him to go the extra mile whether for a class or good old-fashioned insanity.

He crouches down to pick up Tom’s paper and a bold “98” stares back at him.

Jensen starts to laugh again and punches locker 768 so hard his knuckles are red the next day.

 

*****

 

“Jay, does my hair really look that bad?”

“Yes,” Jared grunts, not looking at Chad.

It’s Thursday and he’s bored out of his mind in Calc as usual.

He stares at the board and watches Jensen Ackles make sense of the equations in about two minutes flat. How the _hell_ does he do it? He’d give his left nut to have half that kid’s brain.

Ackles is still a douche, though, so Jared doesn’t feel all that bad about sticking his foot into Jensen’s path as he passes his desk. He needs his undivided attention and tripping him seems like a surefire way to get it.

Plus it’s totally worth it because murderous is a good look on Ackles.

The whole class turns to look at the commotion, a few students sniggering at the innocent smile plastered on Jared’s face.

Jensen’s blush gives him away even as he gets ready to tear Jared a new one. Jared’s grinning before Jensen gets his too-pretty mouth around the insults. He mutters them only for Jared’s ear so Morgan won’t hear his star pupil’s talent for language.

“…you hear me, you fuckingoversized moron?”

“What’s that?” Jared asks pleasantly. “I don’t think I caught all of it.”

“You alright, Jensen?” Dr. Morgan calls from behind his desk, obviously trying to help but not wanting to embarrass Jensen further.

“Fine, sir. Just… tripped.”

“I think he hit his head, Dr. Morgan. Should I take him down to the nurse’s office?”

Jensen’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head frantically. This keeps getting better.

“That’s probably a good idea, Jared,” Dr. Morgan nods. “I’ll write you both a pass.”

“Thank you, sir.”

 

 *****

 

As soon as they’re out in the hall Jensen whirls on Jared. Bad enough that he made him look like an idiot, let alone in front of Morgan.

“Alright, what do you want?”

Jared smiles, hands outspread. “Relax, man. Just wanna talk.”

“About?”

This is so wrong. Jared Padalecki doesn’t _just talk_ to people outside of his circle. Jensen’s not exactly unpopular, but he doesn’t consider very many people “friends.” It may or may not have something to do with his tendency to be a condescending dickhead to his classmates.

“What do you know about Tom Welling?”

To be honest, not all that much except that he sucks. He’s another jock, too good-looking like Jared. Bit more of a Boy Scout type than Padalecki, though. Clark Kent to Jared’s Bruce Wayne, or something like that and wow he’s hit a new low of nerdy and Padalecki definitely isn’t cool enough to—

“Not a lot.”

“But you don’t like him, do you?”

Jensen’s immediate reaction is _hell no._ But he has to test the waters.

“I… don’t really know the guy well enough to say.”

Jared snorts. “You can cut the crap. I know how much you want to be valedictorian.”

Jensen’s going to _kill_ Sophia. The student council officers must be getting pretty cozy if Jared knows anything about him. After all, he’s been vice president of their class for two years—the same amount of time Sophia’s been secretary. 

“Okay, yeah. So what?”

“So, I’d be interested in… getting him out of the picture, too.”

Jensen has to laugh. “You gonna hire the Godfather, or what? Jesus, Padalecki, this is _high school._ ”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

 “I have all of this year and next to knock him down.”

“But you won’t. Dinwiddie isn’t gonna do you any favors and you know it.”

For a second, Jensen had almost forgotten that Jared’s in his Grammar and Comp class, too. And that he’s Dr. Dinwiddie’s favorite for some unfathomable reason.

“And?”

“And, I’m just saying, we have the same interest here. You watch my back, I’ll watch yours.”

Jensen hesitates. “What exactly does ‘watching’ entail?”

“I need help in my classes. In the meantime, I can make Welling’s life difficult on the team. And, to sweeten the pot, I’ll make you look good in Dinwiddie’s class.”

“What makes you think your winning personality’s gonna do me any good?”

“C’mon, Ackles. You know as well as I do that she likes me. If she thinks we’re friends, maybe she’ll make an effort to see past that whole boring and uptight thing you’ve got going on.”

Jensen considers the offer. On the one hand, he’d like to see Welling knocked down a peg. On the other, Padalecki could do with the same and Jensen doesn’t want to owe the guy anything.

Still, it’ll get him what he wants with less skin off his back.

“So what’re we talking here? What would we do to him?”

“Nothing that serious,” Jared assures him eagerly. “Just make things complicated for him. Get him off his game. So we’re clear: I’m gonna do what I have to. I expect the same from you.”

“And if we get caught?” Jensen asks.

“Every man for himself and don’t be a dick. Deal?”

Obviously. He wouldn’t expect Padalecki to go down for him, nor would he take a hit for Jared, especially not where his future’s concerned. But Jensen’s not getting why Jared thinks he needs his help. Padalecki’s a big enough asshole on his own without Jensen’s contribution.

“I’ll think about it.”

Jared writes his number on a scrap of paper and hands it to Jensen like he’s passing off the keys to the kingdom.

 

By the way Jared smiles when he walks away it’s like Jensen already said ‘yes’ and sold his soul to boot.


	2. Two

_Nobody warned you,_   
_Nobody told you, to make up your mind._   
_Nobody told you, that I could just waltz through and shake up your style._   
  
_I'm inside,_   
_like a wrecking ball through your mind,_   
_And I change it all from inside._

 

“This is going to deviate from our usual coursework. But, as your college applications are going to be sent out soon enough, I feel it’ll be a valuable experiment. I want each of you to create a motto for yourself and apply it to your successes and experiences. Treat this as you would a personal statement for full credit. Convince me as to why these words fit with your personality.”

Dr. Dinwiddie writes the assignment at the top corner of the board.

“I’m giving you free reign to be as cocky and full of yourself as you like. This should be right up your alley, Jared.”

The class giggles and casts looks at Jared who’s leaning back in his seat and smirking. Most teachers treat Padalecki with careful reverence, as though he’s God’s personal gift to Eldridge, autographed and all. Dr. Dinwiddie’s the only one who genuinely seems to _like_ Jared.

She’s also the only teacher that doesn’t particularly like Jensen. The feeling’s mutual.

“But remember, humility can also be an attractive trait and the more down to earth you are, the more relatable you become.”

She adds a due date underneath the assignment then pulls her hair into a loose ponytail.

“I’ll be partnering you up at the end of class randomly for editing purposes. Your partner will have the weekend to come up with suggestions as to how you can improve your paper. You have until the rest of the period to work. Be sure to switch papers before the bell rings.”

Dr. Dinwiddie gestures to the laptop cart at the front of the classroom. An immediate scramble ensues as everyone tries to avoid getting stuck with the shitty bottom row of computers.

Once he has a laptop Jensen glances around the room for inspiration. Classroom posters always have cheesy inspirational slogans that essay graders love, like _“Shoot for the moon, even if you do not reach it, you will land among the stars,”_ which, in Jensen’s opinion, is probably the least inspirational advice of all time, cause it’s sort of more like “ _The realization that your dreams are utterly out of your reach is good for you and once you accept that you’ll settle down and get a real job like the rest of us.”_

A poster on the left wall proclaims _“A Mind Works Best When It’s Like a Parachute: Open.”_

He could run with that, but it’s not quite how he’d describe himself. _Open mind_ gives him the image of the parachute gliding aimlessly through the sky, hoping for the best possible landing. Lots of room for error.

Jensen’s head operates more like Eldridge’s halls. Neat, polished, doors on either side. He focuses on one at a time, the rest on strict lockdown until he’s achieved what he set out to do.

The lockdown—that’s what’s important. Security. Discipline. Not giving anything away; not budging an inch. Like well-written code, or encryption.

 _“Mind over matter,”_ really.

Jensen digs in his pocket for a mint and tears the plastic wrapper, puts it in his mouth, and starts to type.  
  


*****    
  


Of course, Jensen ends up paired with the only person he considers a bigger dumbass than Jared— Padalecki’s best friend, Chad. So much for that whole improving his GPA idea.

Chad saunters over a few minutes before the bell rings and holds his hand out for Jensen’s paper. Padalecki’s watching from across the room, thoroughly ignoring his own partner. He’s too busy smirking at Jensen to notice poor Rob Benedict.

Chad looks up from Jensen’s essay. Squints up, really, since his eyes are kinda stuck that way most of the time.

“Yeah, this sounds like you: totally boring, no personality, really uptight. Nice job, Ackles.”

Jensen turns his back on Jared and glares at Chad.

“Thanks, Chad. I wish I could say the same about you comparing yourself to James Dean, Bruce Willis, _and_ Abraham Lincoln.”

Chad shrugs. “Great men are always misunderstood.”

Jensen hangs back after class to ask Dinwiddie if she’ll let him switch partners, but no luck. He’s stuck with Murray. Dr. Dinwiddie has the nerve to say she thinks Chad’s creativity might “rub off on him.”

Jensen’s very happy without _any_ part of Chad rubbing on him and still stuck with him as an editor.  
  


*****  
  


Saturday night finds Jensen home for the weekend for the first time during the autumn semester.

It’s less than an hour’s drive from Eldridge to his house but he still doesn’t come home all that often. Usually he’s too busy with schoolwork anyways and there’s not a whole lot to do in the suburbs.

He helps his mom prepare dinner, Donna venting about her coworkers and classes over the racket of Mackenzie practicing flute in the living room.

“…I mean, I _understand_ Organic Chem isn’t a walk in the park to begin with, let alone when half of them didn’t take the principles course beforehand…”

Jensen nods, slicing the potato in front of him. His mind is still back at school because being home is throwing him off his bearings.

It’s not that the house on Suddard Street is all that different. It’s more that everything else seems to be. It’s stupid and melodramatic, but besides his room at the end of the hall there’s nothing to prove Jensen ever belonged here.

Suddard’s been home since he was eleven, when he went to school at the private Catholic elementary, then middle school before enrolling at Eldridge. He learned coding here, how to program with C++ and JavaScript on an HP laptop. Jensen even created his first virus in this house as a “fuck you” to his middle school librarian, who didn’t believe he hadn’t stolen a copy of _Hound of the Baskervilles._ He lost his virginity in a house up the street to the only friend he’d had before Eldridge—Chris Kane, another kid from Texas who had looked out for Jensen when he was a freshman.

Jensen’s brother, Josh, has been gone for years. And then Chris moved away, probably playing football for some hotshot college team. Mackenzie’s taller, her conversation less about boy bands and more about playing _in_ band and National Honor Society. She’s got an iPhone, (seriously what the hell, he doesn’t even have one) and a whole bunch of giggling girlfriends to text her at all hours.

Donna’s the only one that hasn’t changed; brilliant, balancing teaching with her job as a hospital pediatrician. She’s added another night course (Biology) at Swarthmore once a week to fill the time she has with her eldest out of the house. It’s no mystery where Jensen got his workaholic streak.

“I’ve told the administration that they’ve got to keep a closer eye on him for the sake of the students—”

Jensen scrapes the potato slices into a pan and leaves them on the counter for his mom to finish.  Donna’s never been an amazing cook, but her specialty scalloped potato recipe goes back generations of Jensen’s Southern branch of family and he can’t come anywhere close to doing it justice.

“Mom?” Jensen interrupts.

“—But they don’t listen. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to complain, they’re just not ready for my class when they get to it—”

“MOM?”

“Yeah, Jen?” Donna finally stops, glancing up at him from the sink.

“I’m gonna go to my room and get some stuff done before Josh gets here, okay?”

“Sure, sweetie.”

She ruffles his hair as he passes, messing up the perfect shape of the spikes in the front. He scowls but doesn’t mind all that much.  
  


*****  
  


Jensen palms himself through his pants for what must be the eighth time in the past two minutes. What is it with tonight?

He’d come upstairs to study for Geology and hadn’t read more than nine pages before he’d started fidgeting because his jeans were suddenly too tight. Figures, with the way he’s been watching his grades and stressing about Josh coming home. Jensen keeps a tight rein on his body, never allowing an impulse to rule him. Getting tense like this is gonna make his control fly out the window. He needs to blow off steam, should really write some code or try a new set of inputs for the algorithm he’s been writing. Except that would be slacking and Jensen doesn’t slack.

He squints and leans forward until the type of his textbook is about four inches from his glasses. Crude oil could be interesting, right? He rereads the line in the middle of the page three times.

_Studies have shown that peak crude oil production is upon us and the consequences will likely be severe…_

Rubbing one out between assignments isn’t exactly what he wants. He gives up, closing his book with a sigh and padding to the bathroom. A cold shower will have to do.

_Consequences will likely be severe._

The words meander around his mind and filter into the thoughts that have been lurking untapped for the entire day, namely Tom Welling and Jared’s offer. If there’s one situation in his life with potentially severe consequences, it’d have to be working with that moron.

Padalecki makes his skin crawl. Not in all bad ways, but crawl nonetheless.

While he waits for the water to warm up to a tolerable temperature, Jensen strips down to his boxer-briefs and examines his reflection in the mirror. His skin’s gotten better since freshman year but there’s nothing he can do about the little kid freckles.

He peels off his underwear and gets under the stream, lets the water pour over him and tries to relax. It has to be obvious he’s not still washing his hair twenty-five minutes later but it’s not like anyone’s gonna call him out for jerking it. Not that he has, yet.

His hand’s poised at the small of his back, index and middle fingers pressed against the swell of his ass. The heat in his cheeks increases at the mere thought of what he could do; what he _wants_ to do with the small tub of Vaseline under the sink.

He moves his hand away and slumps against the wet tile wall with a sigh.

Jensen started doing this a year ago; teasing, getting himself high on the sensations of his body without totally giving in to them, and only if he really wants it. Eventually he started getting off on the simple fact that he was denying himself. He used to think about sex all the time until not having a release became part of his routine, part of how he went through his days—too much energy, so much want pent up inside a single body. It’s come in handy, actually, as he channels it outwards into other aspects of his life.

He likes testing his own limits. It’s not about just getting off. Sometimes he draws the process out for a few days without finishing.

He hasn’t had actual sex since he lost his virginity in his freshman year. Not that he doesn’t enjoy it. But thinking about coming and _not doing it,_ getting right up to the edge and hanging off—

Already a shiver’s climbing up from the base of his spine. His legs go a little liquidy at the knees and he moves his middle finger to his rim. Jensen strokes the tight ring of flesh with the pad of his fingertip, shuddering and pressed up against the wet tile wall.

He imagines what it’d be like, having slick fingers inside him, working him open; can practically feel the warm weight of a body against his back. Jensen opens his mouth around his wrist, sucking his own skin as his finger makes unfulfilled promises. The longer he waits the better the ache gets until he’s practically sobbing with how bad he wants release.

Jensen moves his hand away from his ass and makes a fist around the base of his cock. His heart hammers, his breathing so ragged it hurts. He closes his eyes and rocking his hips up against the slick tile to get some friction; the angle’s awkward, the tile chafing, but it’s good.

His mouth goes from sucking to biting on his wrist to keep from moaning out loud. Cool water lights on his cheeks, dispelling the flush building in his face.

“Jensen? Honey? Dinner’s ready. Your brother’s on his way home!” His mother’s knocking on the door, startling Jensen into stillness.

And fuck if the thought of getting caught in the act doesn’t make his dick blurt out precome, white and sticky as it runs down the wall.

“Jensen?”

“G-got it.”    
                       

*****  
  
  
Jensen holds a napkin up to his mouth and spits his mint into it.

His family’s gathered around the table, the picture of suburban life right down to the missing father figure. Donna’s at the head with Josh and Jensen on either side of her and Mackenzie on Jensen’s right. Last Jensen heard Alan’s still living in Dallas. He can stay there for the next fifty years for all Jensen cares.

“Your brother’s been doing really well at Eldridge,” Donna says as she passes Josh the salad.

If this were a movie, Jensen would be narrating about how everything’s comfortable when he comes home, that his family’s still the same as ever. But they’re not.

Mackenzie’s trying to be sneaky by texting under the table while Josh walks Donna through his work day. Jensen ignores the meatloaf on his plate in favor of the cheesy potatoes despite the fact he’s not that hungry.

“Atta boy. You looking at schools yet?”

Jensen shrugs. “A bit.”

Josh nods and swallows. “You could always apply to Temple. I had a blast there.”

Josh graduated with honors from the Psychology program, specializing in cognitive psych and landing a job his first year out of college. He’s now the lab director at University of Pennsylvania’s Department of Psychology which everyone is _just thrilled_ about, even if Josh barely scraped through high school because he was too busy trying to look cool and get laid.

“Temple’s, uh, not exactly what I had in mind.”

“Yeah?”

Josh is trying to be helpful. Temple’s a great school and it’s not his fault Jensen’s too stuck up to consider it.

“I’m going Ivy League.”

Josh and Donna exchange a look that has Jensen’s blood boiling. Like _there he goes again, ain’t that precious._

“That’s great, Jen. You should follow your dreams.”

“Jensen’s been working very hard. I’d be surprised if he doesn’t at least get wait-listed. Not that I don’t think he can do it,” Donna adds.

 _Wait-listed?_ Jensen’s grip on his fork is going to crack either it or his fingers at this rate. It’s not that she means to be discouraging. Jensen’s wired with the same stuff as his mother. Neither sugarcoat what they think is the truth, while Josh and Mack can spin a line of bullshit like nobody’s business.

Jensen attributes that particular trait to his father after years’ worth of missed birthday calls and subsequent excuses. Alan’s never forgotten his son’s birthday; he just doesn’t give a shit. He has his own family, a do-over with a dental hygienist that produced two sons. Jensen’s never met his half-brothers and plans to keep it that way.

“It’s a lot of work, though, Jen. Harder than high school,” Josh points his fork at him to emphasize his point.

_No shit._

“Yeah I figured, seeing as they’re the best schools in the country,” Jensen has to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

“Jensen,” Donna warns. “Watch your tone.”

“You should see the stuff my students go through, man, I’m telling you. I don’t envy them.”

It’s beyond Jensen how Josh managed to get that job. He’s not stupid by any means, but he never tried when he was in high school. Jensen remembers trying to do homework over Josh’s attempts to play guitar and being woken up in the middle of the night when he snuck girls in through his bedroom window.

“Eldridge is known for producing Ivy League students,” Jensen says.

“He sounds like a brochure,” Josh says to Donna. “He’ll fit right in at Yale.”

Jensen’s knowledge of physics tells him he has the perfect angle to use his spoon to catapult potato at his older brother’s face. It’s tempting.

“Mack, put your phone away and eat your dinner,” Donna swoops in before Jensen has a chance to respond.

Mackenzie sulks her way through the meal. Jensen might be a junior in high school and therefore much less entitled to pouting than his younger sister, but he does it anyways and puts her tantrum to shame.  
  


*****  
  


Jensen’s eyes are starting to cross from exhaustion when Donna knocks on his door.

“Jensen?”

He puts his Geology book aside and pushes his glasses up his nose. “Yeah?”

“You doing homework?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s Saturday,” Donna sighs.

“I’m aware.”

He doesn’t meet her eyes because he knows he’s being a little shit. He’s _been_ a little shit all night. Still, he’d be doing homework back at school no matter what day it was. Explaining himself to Josh over the dinner table only brought his motivation back in double time.

“I was wondering if…”

She takes a deep breath, a sure sign she’s about to say something he’ll hate. Jensen takes a sip of water from the glass on his bedside table to give her time.

“Maybe I should take you out of that school.”

Jensen chokes.

“I just want you to be happy,” She says in a rush, trying to explain herself before Jensen can breathe again and therefore start freaking out on her.

“A-am,” he wheezes.

She casts an eye over the pile of textbooks next to his bed.

“Honey, just _looking_ at all those books makes me feel like I’ve got scoliosis.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the majority of adolescent scoliosis cases are female,” he rasps.

“I know that, don’t be a smartass.”

“I’m just saying—”

“I put you in Eldridge because I thought you’d do well there.”

“Mom, look, I can get that A out of Dinwiddie, I swear—”

“Jesus _Christ,_ Jensen,” his mom actually throws her hands up in frustration. “Enough about your grades, okay? I meant I wanted you to be _happy._ I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if you were failing that woman’s class if you’d just…”

Just what? Smile and skip around the house on weekends? Smash beer cans on his forehead like other kids?

Donna takes another deep breath. Jensen can practically hear her trying out this week’s parenting tip from Oprah’s magazine.

“I’m sorry, Jen. I just don’t want you to end up like me.”              

Seeing as she teaches at one of the best schools in the state, is a single parent, and can still balance a second job, Jensen doesn’t see how that’d be such a bad thing.

Jensen shrugs. “It’s okay.”

“I’m proud of you, no matter what. You don’t have to be perfect.”

She gets up from his bed, looking into his face even though he won’t meet her eyes. He clutches the Geology text book, waiting for her to leave so he can dive back into something productive.

“I know.”

She closes the door behind her and Jensen only feels worse. He drops the book to the floor with a thud and pulls his comforter up to his chin.

_But I want to be. I will be.  
_

*****  
  


Jensen drives back to school on Sunday morning. He rolls down the Corolla’s windows and hums along to the Wilco album he downloaded last week, inhaling the air that’s starting to take on an autumn chill.

After he parks (he has a reserved space for “academic excellence”), Jensen strolls down the brick lane and kicks the first of the season’s fallen leaves with his Converse. Besides everything else Eldridge offers, it has a beautiful campus. The original brick buildings of the school have white Doric columns, facades facing inwards on a circular courtyard that makes up the heart of the school. The Circle’s a kind of gathering place for pickup games of Frisbee and a lot of kids hang out there between classes on sunny days, except in the middle of the fall semester. It might as well be an Eldridge calendar holiday the way everyone knows to avoid it. Geese migrating south for the winter stop in every autumn and treat The Circle like their personal pond-side resort.

Jensen doesn’t envy the groundskeepers who take care of the lawn after all the birds have gone because it’s nearly biblical how much shit and feathers the flock leaves in its wake. The easiest way to tell a freshman on Eldridge’s campus is by watching who’s trying to wipe goose shit off their shoes before entering the dining hall. It’s that bad.

Jensen takes the path around The Circle and climbs the hill to the dining hall where Sophia meets him for brunch. He hasn’t seen her since that fateful Calc class, so he spills the details of Jared’s offer over plates of eggs, toast, and in Jensen’s case, sausage. Sophia’s been a vegetarian as long as he’s known her.

“I dunno, Jen. Tom’s a prick but doesn’t this seem a little extreme to you?”

“He said it wouldn’t be anything serious,” Jensen reminds her as much as himself.

“Serious in your book or his?”

Jensen shrugs. He hadn’t really thought of that.

“You should’ve seen Welling on Thursday. First he practically runs me over, and then he has the nerve to act like he doesn’t know who I am. We’ve been in classes together since freshman fucking year!”

“Did you ever consider this might be another Josh thing?”

“Meaning what?” Jensen growls.

“Meaning that you have a tendency to get competitive when no one else is playing.”

“He’s Valedictorian of _Eldridge._ He’s definitely playing. He couldn’t be in the top spot if he wasn’t.”

“Why do you care so much anyways? You’ll still get to talk at graduation and I know that’s just your favorite thing in the whole wide world,” Sophia grins and waves her fork at him.

Jensen loathes public speaking more than spiders and black licorice—more than spiders force-feeding him black licorice— and since Sophia’s pretty much the best speaker in the whole school, it brings her a special kind of pleasure to tease him about it. She actually competes in that sort of thing at school conventions.Whoever invented _that_ is a special kind of sadist.

“Fuck off. You know it’s not about that.”

“Jensen, you’ll have all the same opportunities he does,” she sighs and pushes scrambled egg around on her plate. “Schools are gonna be drooling to get your applications.”

“We don’t know that,” Jensen says. “So let’s pretend for a second that I take Padalecki up on it—what’s the deal? You see a lot of him at council meetings, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

“And? What’s he like?”

“You know what he’s like,” Sophia scowls. “He’s a self-centered douchebag about, say, eighty percent of the time. Plus, he dated Sandy McCoy for like, ever.” She mimes a yawn.

“And the other twenty?”

“He does good work for student council. He’s good at getting teachers to back our proposals, and he’s done a lot for the athletic department. He got Larson to agree to the new track and the new uniforms for the football team.”

“So you trust him?”

“No,” Sophia answers at once. “I think he sucks. I think he’s a spoiled brat who’s used to getting what he wants and can’t stand that Tom’s beating him at something.”

She shoots Jensen a pointed look which is a little unfair. Jensen’s not that spoiled compared to everyone else at Eldridge. Besides, he works hard to get what he wants.

Right now he wants Tom’s head on a pike. Metaphorically.  Well, mostly metaphorically.

Maybe Sophia’s got a point about his competition issues.

“On the upside, I could probably find a way to fuck Padalecki over, too,” Jensen muses.

“Take on one dick at a time. Haven’t I taught you anything?” Sophia raises an eyebrow at him.

“You know me. Always up for a challenge.”

She laughs and they take their time eating, talking about classes which turns into talking about how hot Dr. Morgan is.

“I get to interview him for the paper, it’s gonna be hard not to ask ‘on a scale of one to ten, how strict is your policy on not sleeping with students?’” Sophia sighs into her scrambled eggs.

“If you find out it’s below a ten let me know. How’s the new issue coming, anyways?”

“It’s gonna be _great,_ ” Sophia gushes. “Kripke’s finally backed down and we’re allowed to bring back PCP! _And—_ ” she says, waving her fork in the air, “with complete freedom of speech. As long as there’s no profanity, racial slurs, etcetera.”

“Bringing back PCP” would sound pretty sketchy to anyone outside of Eldridge. It’s the school newspaper’s _Point-Counterpoint_ section in which students submit articles that are used to spark a debate. 

Sophia’s been on the school’s newspaper staff since she was a freshman and was actually partly responsible for PCP’s discontinuation after her “strongly-worded” and “spirited” response to an article written by a senior guy that implied men made better sports journalists.

Sophia wasn’t even that interested in football until the guy said she wouldn’t know a field goal from a touchdown. To this day it makes Jensen’s head spin how much she memorized about the Eagles’ record for the past six seasons after that comment.

Ironically, Sophia’s been thinking about a career with ESPN ever since she wrote the counterpoint that lost the paper its debate section. She reads the school’s sports news on the announcements every other day, switching off with James Lafferty.

“He’s kinda cute, don’t you think?”

“Who, James?”

Jensen glances up at the muted TV showing the morning announcements. Misha’s behind the camera somewhere, making sure everything runs smoothly. James is in front of it, giving the weekend sports schedule. The only time Lafferty comes off as personable is when he’s talking about statistics or the lacrosse team’s prospects for the playoffs.

“He’s alright, I guess.”

“Yeah. Spends a lot of time with Chad Murray though,” Sophia wrinkles her nose. “Anyways, I gotta run, I have a deadline tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

 

*****

 

Jensen hangs his uniform up in his closet. He’s been pacing for about an hour and should really get to bed. After all, there’s that Geology quiz tomorrow for Shields.

Eventually he caves and makes a list. He unwraps a Lifesaver and makes two columns.

**_Cons:_ **

**_Cons:_ **

  1. _Make Padalecki look good / get what he wants_
  2. _Possibly getting in trouble_ (He’s not worried—he’s an expert at doe eyed apologies and feigned ignorance)
  3. _Being a dick_ (Nothing new)
  4. _Extra Calc homework_ (Not difficult)
  5. _Time commitment_



**_Pros:_ **

  1. _Make Tom look like a dick_
  2. _Become Valedictorian?_
  3. _Raise GPA?_
  4. _Chance to hack / try out new code_ (If it’s necessary to get into Tom’s computer, that is)
  5. _General sense of satisfaction_
  6. _Get back at Tom for ignoring me_ (petty but Jensen can’t fucking stand being ignored, especially on purpose)
  7. _Get Dinwiddie to like me?_ (Jensen’s skeptical Jared can swing it)



 

So the pros outweigh the cons. Logic dictates that he should follow through. He takes the scrap of paper out from where it’s folded in the front pocket of his bag.

Ten random digits have never looked so intimidating.

He enters them into his phone under a new contact. He hesitates at the blank “Name” space. Putting “Padalecki” makes it seem as though they’re bros or something and Jensen can’t imagine anything worse. “Jared” is too familiar. “Jared Padalecki” is too formal, like he’s showing off somehow, like yeah, I have _Jared Padalecki’s_ number. But “Jared P” is so middle school.

Fuck it. He leaves the name space blank and starts a new text.

_I’ll do it. This is_

He pauses again. This is Jensen? This is Ackles? This is Jensen Ackles? He could just send his initials and Jared would get the hint. No, too pretentious. Should he attach his name at all? How many people could Jared have sending him cryptic three word text messages?

_This is Jensen. I’ll do it._

He sends the message with a sigh. He already regrets it.

He imagines the guy who bought the Segway company and proceeded to drive off a cliff to his death on one must’ve felt like this. He probably hadn’t known what he was dealing with until he’d gone over the edge, had a moment of sheer embarrassment, too, right before he hit the rocks. Which is the phase Jensen’s currently at.

He snorts out loud. No wonder he’s not getting an A in Dinwiddie’s class when in a moment of genuine emotional distress the only analogies he can think of involve terrible deaths and Segways.

At least there’s no chance of dying except from embarrassment at this point.

He tosses and turns for hours that night but Jared never texts back.


	3. Three

_Oh, he's gonna let you down_   
_He's gonna let you down_   
_He's gonna let you down_   
_He's gonna break your back for a chance_   
_He's gonna steal your friends if he can_   
_He's gonna win someday_

****

“What did you call me in for, Dr. Morgan?”

Jensen had been pulled out of art class with Miss McNiven five minutes ago. According to the front office, Dr. Morgan had needed to see him about his grade.

He looks good this morning; even better than usual in a charcoal gray suit coat, black sweater and cream colored slacks. Jensen’s always appreciated a man with a little shadow and Morgan’s managed to perfect the art of stubble.

“Your performance has been, frankly, outstanding,” Morgan tells him, easing to sit on the edge of his desk with his legs crossed in front of him. He’s tall. Really tall. And broad. His shoulders go on forever.

He fixes his brown eyes on Jensen. His brow ridge is like, perfect. Which is a totally normal thing to think about your teacher.

“But,” Morgan begins, his eyes dragging away from Jensen’s face and steadily moving south, “I think you could do better. Maybe you just need more…” He cocks his head to the side. “…Discipline.”

Jensen’s knees go rubbery and he steadies himself by leaning on a desk.

“Yes, sir,” he gulps.

Morgan uncrosses his legs and stands to his full height with a crooked smile.

“Go to the blackboard, Jensen.”

Jensen tries to keep himself from staggering.

“Stand right there,” Morgan says. “Legs apart. Face the board.”

Morgan steps closer. Jensen can hear him approaching by the heels of his expensive shoes.

His cheeks flush, his breathing shaky and Dr. Morgan’s gravelly voice is telling him to unbutton his shirt.

He does so, already hard because he can feel Morgan looming behind him. Morgan’s chest is at his back, he’s _murmuring in Jensen’s ear._

His scruff rasps over the back of Jensen’s jaw and holy fuck he’s gonna blow his load before—

_WHAM. WHAM WHAM WHAM._

“Ackles? You in there?”

Jensen jolts awake, sitting up so fast he almost bends double. Which is _really_ uncomfortable since, oh shit, morning wood.

Someone’s hammering on his door.

“Rise and shine, Ackles!”

It’s 6:45 according to his bedside alarm clock. He usually sleeps for another half an hour.

Jensen means to say, _open the fucking door asshole,_ but all he manages is a groan.

“It’s locked. Get your ass outta bed!”

Sophia’s the only one who talks to him like that and it’s definitely not a female voice on the other side. Jensen has a feeling he knows who it is. It makes his blood run cold and his half-hard cock calm down immediately.

But Padalecki—he wouldn’t. Would he?

He puts on his glasses and shuffles to the door, checking himself out in the mirror first. He doesn’t like people seeing him before he’s ready. He pats his hair flat and runs his fingers through the front so it’ll stand up a bit.

Padalecki’s slouched against the door frame, hair damp and already fully dressed. He’s clutching a steaming cup and grinning like it’s not the crack of fucking dawn and there’s nothing he’d rather be doing.

“Morning. Let me in, I gotta talk to you.”

His eyes rake over Jensen’s bare chest and it’s like he knows he’s making Jensen’s skin prickle the way the smile turns into a leer.

“Pretty sweet digs, I gotta say. Must be nice having a room to yourself.”

It is. Jensen would go insane if he had a roommate. “Top ten juniors and top ten seniors get their own rooms, you know how it works.”

“Yeah,” Jared nods. “And your own bathroom? Lucky bastard.”

Jensen steps back and retreats to his bed. He pulls the covers up around his waist and yawns.

“This better be good, Padalecki. The fuck you doing up so early, anyways?”

“Swim practice,” Jared says.

“I thought you played lacrosse.” Jensen rubs his eyes behind his glasses.

“I do both. I rotate teams I play on every year. Last year I did football and lacrosse, this year it’s swim and lacrosse.”

Right. No big deal.

“Of course you do. Anyways, what do you want?”

“I thought we could discuss our arrangement,” Jared says and flops down on to Jensen’s desk chair.

“Seriously, Padalecki, if we’re gonna do this you have to swear to stop talking like we’re having the guy assassinated.”

“Sure thing. Whatever you want,” Jared grins and it takes all of Jensen’s willpower not to slap it off his face.

Padalecki has dimples. Jensen’s noticed them before, but when all the force of Jared’s smile is turned on him the effect is dazzling. Why the hell would a guy like Padalecki be able to pull that off? He’s on his own level, no, _planet_ of douchiness, and he can look that innocent?

It’s another thing Jensen adds to his mental list of life’s injustices.

“Why can’t we do this later, anyways?”

“Had to catch you at a good time.”

“You could hardly have picked a worse one,” Jensen croaks.

Jared hands over the Styrofoam cup he’s been holding. Black coffee, the Sumatra flavor Jensen gets every morning at breakfast. “I meant good for me.”

“That’s awful kind of you but you should know I don’t put out on the first date,” Jensen says, taking a sip of sweet, life-bringing caffeine.

Jared’s eyes flick down to Jensen’s stomach and back again. As if to say, _I could change that._

Jensen fidgets and pulls the blanket tighter around himself.

“Then I’ll get right down to the details.”

 Jared stands up and starts pacing the dorm, the exact same route Jensen took last night. Hard not to since the dorms are about as big as the average hamster cage.

 “I need help in Calc. Whether you wanna tutor me or whatever is up to you. Point being I need my grade to go up.”

“Doable. What’s next?”

“Sit next to me in Dinwiddie’s class. It’ll make us look like we’re friends. She’ll notice.”

“What’s that gonna help?”

Jared stops pacing to laugh at him. “Ackles, the only reason she doesn’t like you is that she thinks you’ve totally got a stick up your ass. Which you do.”

Jensen grumbles.

“Oh, that reminds me. Chad asked me to give this back to you.” He digs in his bag for a moment and hands Jensen’s essay back to him. It’s covered in tiny chicken-scratch comments written by Chad that Jensen’s not sure he’ll even be able to read. Not that it matters, probably.

“Sounds like someone has a few control issues.”

Jensen takes a calming breath. He’s not letting Padalecki get under his skin. Not today. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Chad let Jared read his paper. They probably read it aloud at the weekly LAX team circle jerk.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Isn’t your motto ‘chase after ball?’ or maybe ‘go team go?’”

“ _I wouldn’t expect you to understand,_ ” Jared mocks in a high-pitched tone, looking down his nose at Jensen. “Do you even listento yourself?”

“When I’m not busy trying to tune people like _you_ out.”

Jared shakes his head and laughs.

Jensen doesn’t know what it is about Padalecki that pisses him off without Jared having to say a thing. It’s a reflex. Even if Jared’s just sitting in front of him, Jensen itches to throw some cutting remark. Half the time he doesn’t think before it’s out of his mouth.

He doesn’t mean to come across so condescending. Jared drags out his barely hidden inner-asshole without lifting a finger.

“So, you read my paper. What’d you think?” It’s as close to an apology as Jensen can manage.

“What do you care? I _wouldn’t understand._ ”

“You understand Dinwiddie’s grading and that’s good enough for me.”

Jared puts his water bottle on Jensen’s desk. Jensen tries not to flinch when it sweats a ring on to the wood.

“Honestly? You’re good, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s like reading an instruction manual. Like, _these are the ingredients to make your very own Jensen Ackles._ It doesn’t tell me why I’d want one. It doesn’t say anything about what makes you different. What makes you who you are.”

Jensen doesn’t get it. Jensen doesn’t not get things. It pisses him off. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, there’s a difference between you on paper and you in person. There are other kids who get good grades and suck at life, but you’re not them, are you?”

“No.”

It almost sounds like Jared’s saying Jensen’s…better? More interesting than other kids at Eldridge at least, even as he’s semi-insulting him.

“Reading your paper is reading class ranks versus, say, meeting you in a face to face interview. There’s no _voice._ ”

Jensen stares at Jared because now he’s starting to understand. But how the hell does Padalecki know this shit? He sleeps through half his classes and that’s _if_ he shows up.

“How can I fix it?”

Jared shrugs. “Rewrite it. Say what you’re writing out loud before you type it out. You’ve got an ear for bullshit, so use it. If you sound like a robot, you’re not getting your voice across.”

Padalecki pops a mint from Jensen’s desk into his mouth and Jensen keeps on staring, more than a little freaked out. Jared Padalecki’s giving _him_ advice. Good advice.

“Besides, what d’you need my help for? You get straight A’s like, every year.”

“Not this year,” Jensen shakes his head. “I can’t get past Dinwiddie. I’d heard she was tough but she _will not_ give me above a ninety-two.”

Jared rolls his eyes. “Oh, poor you.”

Jensen tenses and has to take a deep breath. He hates when people get on him about his grades, which is why he has the friends he does. They understand that “passing” isn’t the same as “succeeding.” Then again, even Sophia teases Jensen for how seriously he takes school sometimes.

“You know as well as I do that that’s not good enough for this school.”

“Yeah, I guess not. What’s your end game?”

“I dunno yet. Government, maybe. I just don’t want to have my options limited by my own failings,” Jensen shrugs. “If I wanted to go to a certain school, or get into a certain program, or go for a specific job, and I didn’t do all I could to qualify for it, I’d be pissed at myself.”

“How’re you supposed to know when you’ve done enough, then?”

“You can always do more.”

Jared laughs and shakes his head. “I guess I get it. Sports can be like that. Can always be fitter, faster; something. So what’s your trauma?”

“Child of divorce,” Jensen shrugs. “Like most kids here.”

“Still, doesn’t really explain it though, does it?”

“Explain what?”

“Your overachiever thing. Every class’ top ten at this school are _royally_ fucked up.”

“My mom said my future was up to me. My brother barely scraped through public high school and she didn’t give a shit. She only gets on my case if she thinks I’m not doing enough. Which I’m not.”

“What, are you kidding?” Jared gapes. “My mom would shit herself if I brought home a report card like yours.”

“I can do better.”

Jared blinks at him. “I think she meant do what you can, not kill yourself over it.”

Of course Jared’s never met Donna so he can’t know that she wouldn’t expect anything more of Jensen than of herself. Donna’s never half-assed a single task in her life. Even her grocery shopping is methodical.

“I guess so, yeah.”

“Anyways,” Jared gets up and stretches. “It’s been a blast but I’ve got shit to do and I assume you have to polish your spelling bee trophies or something so…”

Jared makes for the door.

“I’m terrible at spelling,” Jensen blurts.

Jared hesitates with his hand on the door knob. “Good to know you have a weakness.”

He shuts the door behind him.

Jensen puzzles over Padalecki’s parting words all throughout European History.

Even if the conversation had been mostly civil, _good to know you have a weakness_ still sounds an awful lot like a threat.

 

*****

 

“Misha, I’ve got a favor to ask.”

Misha Collins blinks too-blue, wide eyes at him from across the library table. He’s got a stack of about fifteen books in front of him, his Botany textbook open on the desk.

“Does it involve hacking into any kind of government organization? I’d be down, but last week I may or may not have set off some—”

“Nah, calm down. Just something basic. Stupid joke on a friend.”

“Oh, okay. That’s fine then. What do you need me to do?”

“The lacrosse captaincy thing is big news tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well, Tom Welling and I have a bet going, and long story short, I need to make an ass of him in public. Just a little name switching, nothing major.”

Jensen doesn’t have to say that Misha won’t get into trouble for it. Because, A, Misha never gets in trouble (at least from the school), and B, if they got rid of Misha, the morning announcements would fall to shit. The guy’s a tech genius, eight times better than Jensen at anything that has wires and uses electricity.

Jensen could hack into the files on the Broadcasting Club’s computer but it’s so much easier to ask Misha, especially since he’d be able to tell if anything in the system had been altered.

“I thought you hated Tom?” Misha raises an eyebrow.

“Hate? Nah, man. All it is is a little friendly rivalry.”

“I don’t think it’s possible for you to combine ‘friendly’ and ‘rivalry,’ Jensen.”

The fact that what Misha says is true doesn’t make it less annoying.

“Jesus, if I hear one more word from my own goddamn _friends_ about how I’m—”

Misha smiles, unrattled, because it’s actually impossible to faze Misha Collins. Jensen’s bitching fades into grumbles.

“What’ve you been up to, anyways? Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Been busy,” Jensen says. “Y’know, the usual. Plus I’ve picked up tutoring.”

Misha nods. “That’s good. But I never thought of you as the ‘helping others’ type.”

“Looks good on my applications.”

“Ah,” Misha nods again. “That explains it. Anyways, I need a favor back.”

“Shoot,” Jensen says.

“I’m going away for a few days because of the Envirothon competition. Can you take care of my moth orchids? They don’t need much attention. Just make sure they’re not in direct sunlight all day.”

“Sure thing, Mish. Am I supposed to water them, or…?”

Misha checks his watch and starts piling books into his bag.

“Well, no, not really. But misting wouldn’t hurt. Make sure they’re hydrated.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Misha shrugs, zipping up his backpack and walking away before he’s even done speaking.

“Use your best judgment. I’ve gotta get going. Thanks, Jensen.”

“No problem,” Jensen mutters as Misha practically leaves him in the dust.

He really hopes orchids are the kind of plants that can go without water because he has no idea what the hell _misting_ means.

 

*****

 

Tom Welling’s ability to be a massive dickhead actually ends up doing Jensen a favor.

Jensen never told Sophia that he’d agreed to work with Padalecki and he’s been kinda dreading the moment when she inevitably found out. She talked to Padalecki every week at student council and they have a lot of the same friends, both being so involved with the athletic department.

And it’s not that Jensen’s guilty about keeping a secret, per se, but he does jump every time she so much as mentions Tom, Jared, or even the lacrosse team.

So yeah, maybe he’s a little afraid of her reaction. 

Tom, bless his obnoxious, chauvinist heart, spares Jensen a massive telling off when he publishes a piece in the newspaper about the guys’ soccer team. Which of course wouldn’t be bad—if he didn’t compare them to the girls’ simply to say how much better the guys’ is. Not just on a competitive level, either.

Tom goes the whole sexist hog.

His article ends up basically being a head scratching rant about how the pace of women’s sports can’t keep up with men’s, that the crowds drawn won’t be as big, same old bullshit—and all Jensen can do is sit back and wait for the storm.

Sure enough, when Sophia bursts into his dorm the afternoon the paper goes out, she’s practically exhaling smoke from her nostrils.

“Did you—?”

“I did.”

“I _had_ to publish it. It was an opinion piece so we couldn’t axe it according to the rules, which is _such_ bullshit. If there are clauses about race and religious sensitivity there sure as shit should be something about gender, but I guess that’s out of the fucking question.”

Sophia slams her purse down on Jensen’s desk.

“I don’t understand how he’s even allowed to say something like that. I mean, whatever, since the girls on the soccer team could probably kick his ass.”

“I bet your friends aren’t too happy.”

Jensen himself is torn.

On the one hand, it’s pretty fucking terrible that an article like that got published in the first place. But now he has the perfect window to spill the beans about his and Jared Padalecki’s deal.

“Danneel Harris might actually beat me to murdering him. She’s captain this year and the team’s actually doing _really_ well, which Tom might know if he wasn’t so busy talking out his ass.”

“Well that’s kind of what he does, Soph.”

Sophia’s hands clench into fists.

“Y’know what? Fuck it. Do whatever you’re gonna do, because he’s got it fucking coming.”

Jensen nods solemnly like he’s taking on some kind of sacred duty.

“I’ll let Padalecki know it’s on, then.”

 

*****

 

The next day Sophia delivers brilliantly, not so much as cracking a smile when the photograph of Tom comes up on screen with the caption “Dick S. Welling.”

Jensen’s homeroom, however, dissolves into laughter. Even nervous Dr. Tigerman cracks a smile at the apparent “mix-up.”

He catches up with Sophia after first period.

“How’d it go?”

“Kripke was pissed at first, but I told him I had no idea his name wasn’t Richard,” She sniggers. “Took a lot of eyelash batting, too.”

“And Mish?”

“Please. That little shit could murder the entire crew and get away with it. No one thought for a second he had anything to do with it.”

It takes a week for the novelty of calling Tom “Dick Swelling” to wear off. Everywhere Tom goes, the name follows.

It’s not even that funny, but Jensen savors every second of it and Padalecki even nods at him in the hallway between classes.

Not that Jensen cares.

 

*****

 

“Are you listening?”

“I mean, we could key his car or something, I guess—”

Jensen seriously regrets agreeing to tutor Padalecki. He’s done three of the homework problems Morgan gave them and that’s with Jensen’s help. He checks his texts every five seconds because that’s about how long it takes him to get six new messages in his inbox. Even Sophia would be amazed.

While Jensen checks his work, Jared muses half-assed ideas to get back at Tom out loud.

“Padalecki,” Jensen snaps his fingers under Jared’s nose like he’s an overlarge Golden Retriever. He’d probably chase a stick if Jensen felt like throwing one across the library.

Trying to teach a dumb dog complicated tricks is a waste of time and Jensen’s time isn’t something he gives out for free.

“Try number four again. You’re doing the same thing I pointed out earlier.”

Jared huffs and bends over the desk, his nose scrunching up in concentration. He’s definitely doing the problem wrong but at least he’s quiet for a few minutes so Jensen’s head stops pounding.

The sun’s gone down and Jensen would much rather be in his dorm, studying or maybe taking a break to talk to Sophia on the phone. As it is, he’s stuck with a brain-dead jock going over the same Calc problems seventeen times and still not making any progress.

Jared passes the notebook back to Jensen.

“Here, check it.”

“Did you get the derivative?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess?”

Jensen doesn’t have to look for more than a minute to know Jared’s completely ignored what he’s been trying to tell him. He’s repeating the same mistake over and over.

“Or I could trash his locker,” Jared murmurs to himself.

Jensen throws his pencil down on the table, looking for all the world like a frustrated kindergarten teacher trying to reign in her most hyperactive brat. It’s past nine and they’ve made virtually no progress on Padalecki’s homework.

“I dunno about _you,_ Padalecki, but I’ve got shit I’d much rather be doing.”

Jared sighs and runs a hand through his shaggy hair.

“Look could you… uh, just, give me yours? Like you’re really good at this shit and I have swim practice tomorrow, and—”

“You want me to do your homework for you?” Jensen repeats, disbelieving.

“I mean, you’ve already done it, right? It’s not like it’s extra work for you.”

“The whole point of this is to bring your grade up. That’s not gonna happen if you copy my answers. Homework’s only a quarter of our grade anyways.”

“Yeah, but it’s a quarter I don’t have at the moment,” Jared points out.

Jensen’s never let anyone look off his homework. First, it’s directly against the school’s Honor Code. Cheating equals automatic expulsion, sometimes even for the kid being copied off. Second, everyone does their homework at Eldridge anyways.

Jensen rubs his eyes under his glasses. It’s way too late for this considering he didn’t want to do it in the first place. His patience ran out a long time ago and if giving Padalecki some basic Calc answers will clear his evening, it’s worth it. Ten more minutes together and someone’s gonna end up spending the night in the nurse’s office instead of the dorms.

“Here.”

Jensen rips the page of homework from his binder and slaps it down in front of Padalecki.

“Have fun failing Morgan’s test.”

Jensen shoves his books back into his bag and gets to his feet. The whole thing was a terrible idea; he should’ve known Padalecki was hoping for a handout instead of actually learning the material.

“Wait,” Jared yelps and grabs Jensen’s forearm. Jensen immediately pulls away, scowling and stepping back. People are staring at them.

“Sorry,” Padalecki lowers his voice to a whisper. “Thanks for, uh, this,” he gestures to Jensen’s homework.

“Whatever.”

Jensen storms off, ignoring the disgruntled stares of the students hunched over textbooks and wondering why the hell he ever got involved with the King of the Jocks when he can’t stand even the lowliest of their ranks.

 

 *****

 

Dinwiddie looks up at him from over her reading glasses.

“Jensen, this last paper is by far your best work this semester. Did you find working in pairs helpful?”

Jensen’s never been a fan of having his work picked apart right in front of him, but so far the conference with Dinwiddie has been painless.

“I guess so, yeah.”

“Did Chad offer a fresh perspective on your essay?”

“Chad was… okay.”

“And did you have help from anyone else? It’s alright if you did—it’s good to get as much input as possible.”

Jensen wonders if his writing was bad enough that she can recognize someone else’s influence on his essay. It might kill him to admit he took Jared’s opinion seriously but it’s not like Padalecki’s going to hear about it.

“Uh, Jared helped me.”

Dinwiddie nods thoughtfully.

“I see. I’m glad you’re making use of his advice.” She makes a note on the list in front of her. “In fact, I think you two would work quite well together on our next partnered speaking project. Jared lacks organization at times and I think his enthusiasm and speaking skills would help with your nerves.”

“My—what? I’ll be okay, I can find a partner, I just—” Jensen’s tongue trips over itself and the thought of working in a pair with Jared has him a step away from full-blown panic attack.

Dinwiddie smiles and stops Jensen’s stuttering cold. She’s never been this nice to him. He can only assume it’s because he’s suddenly buddies with her favorite student. He’d be stupid to throw that away.

“Give it a try. I can partner Rob and Chad together.”

Jensen has a split second of guilt for putting Rob Benedict in that position before switching back to panic at his own.

“Unless you’d rather work with Tom? I don’t think he has a partner yet.”

“No,” Jensen says way too quickly. “I’ll work with Padalecki.”

“Great,” Dinwiddie smiles again. “See you on Monday.”

Yeah. Real fucking great.          
    

*****

 

The assignment turns out to be purely an exercise in public speaking. Jensen wonders if school works like the military in that breaking a bone means being exempt from service. He’d gladly spend months in a cast if it meant not having to go in front of the class. It probably wouldn’t be too hard to find someone willing to do the breaking for him either since half the class would jump at the chance to do him bodily harm. Hell, Jared might even be first in line.

Dinwiddie writes the guidelines for the project on the board.

“I’m going to come by and assign each pair a disease. You won’t have to do that much research, but make sure you each have at least ten minutes worth of material.”

Ten minutes, ten years; it’s all the same to Jensen.

To top it off, Dinwiddie’s true to her word and pairs him with Padalecki.

When their names are called together, Jared waltzes over and sits on top of the desk next to him.

“Well, whaddya know, looks like we’re partners, Ackles.”

Jensen slumps lower in his seat and firmly avoids making eye contact with his partner.

“Lucky you,” Jared grins.

“Padalecki, the chair is the part you put your ass on in case you forgot,” Dinwiddie says when she comes over to their group.

“Yes ma’am,” Jared slides down into his seat and his elbow knocks against Jensen’s. Jensen tucks his arm in closer to his body, fixing his gaze on Dinwiddie instead of Jared, whose obnoxious grin Jensen can see out of the corner of his eye anyways.

“I’d like the two of you to do yellow fever, alright?”

“Sounds delightful,” Jared drums a pencil against his desk. “Do we have to divide the speaking bits a certain way?”

“Just so that each of you has ten minutes. One of you can speak for ten and then switch, or switch every five; whatever. It’s up to you.”

Dinwiddie walks to the next group.

Jared turns to him with a smirk. “So, when should we do this?”

“Tomorrow night, I guess.”

“You can come by my room, I’ve got—”

“No,” Jensen cuts him off. “I’ll be in the library studying for Euro. We can meet there and I can tutor you after.”

“Okay,” Jared agrees, slightly perplexed. “You still want to? I mean after—”

Of course he doesn’t _want_ to. But he said he would.

“Come prepared this time, Padalecki, or so help me I will off myself before this speaking BS is due.”

“Think I’d get an automatic A if you did? I heard if your roommate dies you get straight A’s. Maybe the same goes for projects.”

Jensen glowers.

 

*****

Jensen jumps what feels like six feet in the air, slamming his elbow down on the library desk on the way back to Earth.

“Jesus Christ, some warning would’ve been nice,” he mutters, rubbing his soon-to-be bruised arm.

Jared had come up behind him and pulled Jensen’s ear buds out without so much as a tap on the shoulder.

Jared grunts and drops his book bag on the floor. “What’re we doing first?”

“First, you’re gonna move your shit ‘cause it’s in my way.” Jensen says. “Then we’re going to talk about how we want to divide the speaking for this stupid thing.”

Jared nudges his bag an inch to the left with his shoe.

“There. You talk for ten and don’t fuck up, I talk for ten. How’s that sound?”

Jensen bristles. Even for Jared, this has to be a new record for zero to sixty of being a dickhead.

“Look, we’re doing this _together_ and I don’t like it any more than you do, but you need to chill the hell out.”

Jared looks like he’s struggling with something for a moment and then crumbles. Jensen hadn’t been expecting to actually get through to him and it’s odd watching the defiance leak out of him.

“Sorry,” Jared heaves a sigh. “I just found out I’m benched for meets.”

“For what?”

“Swim meets. I’m ineligible.”

“Oh,” Jensen blinks. “That sucks.”

All Jensen can think is how ridiculous Jared would look with a shaved head. The guy should really consider it a blessing in disguise. Besides that, he doesn’t really know what to say. There’s no way Jared couldn’t have seen that one coming.

“It’s fine. It’s my fault. But—”Jared’s brow wrinkles and Jensen can tell it’s totally _not_ fine. “It’s such _bullshit,_ who gives a shit if I can’t find a goddamn limit I’m never gonna have to—”

“If you went to public school they wouldn’t give a shit,” Jensen can’t help but point out. “This is the last school you want to be going to if you expect them not to give a shit.”

 Jared’s gaze snaps up to fix on Jensen.

“I don’t need your input, Ackles.”

“You do if you want to swim this season.”

Jared just looks at him.

“I said I’d tutor you, didn’t I?”

“What’s the point?” Jared shrugs. “I obviously don’t get it.”

“Padalecki, if you wanna flunk out that’s fine by me. I wouldn’t be surprised because honestly, I don’t think there’s much of a point, either.”

It’s true even if it’s too harsh. Jensen didn’t mean it; it just came out, the same way it always does when he tries to talk to Padalecki. He’s not exactly sensitive at the best of times with his friends and Jared doesn’t fall anywhere near that category.

Jared shakes his head. “Y’know, I can think of a lot of things I’d rather have you doing with that mouth instead of bitching at me.”

Suddenly Jensen’s not feeling quite so guilty.

“Yeah?” Jensen sneers.

“Oh yeah. Heard you’re pretty talented with it.”

“Please.” Jensen rolls his eyes to the ceiling but his heart’s pounding and his mouth goes dry and this isn’t a side of Jared Padalecki he thought he’d see. The asshole side, definitely, but Jared being interested in him _and_ being an asshole at the same time is new.

Jensen shakes himself mentally and adds jerking off to the top of his to-do list. If he’s seriously considering _Padalecki_ as a viable option for a hookup, it’s been way too long.

“What, my GPA not high enough to meet your standards?” Jared asks.

“More like your IQ and inches,” Jensen snaps back.

Jared actually laughs out loud. Several nearby students glare up at him from textbooks and Jensen wonders if it’s possible to get banned from the library because he’s starting to get used to causing a scene here.

“Are you such a stuck up little prick _all_ the time? Or am I just special?”

“Guess it takes one to know one.”

“You need _me_ for this project, not the other way around,” Jared growls.

“And you need me to pass junior year.” Jensen lets his eyes travel from Padalecki’s face to his jeans and back up again, slow and provocative.

Jared colors instantly and God, is it satisfying.

Jensen’s next words are out before he can stop them. “It’s a shame you won’t even pass Morgan’s next test. ‘Cause I don’t blow losers.”

Jared swallows and sits up straighter in his chair. His gaze is at level with Jensen’s crotch before he drags his eyes back to Jensen’s face.

“And what if I do? Pass, I mean,” Jared licks his lips and leans closer to Jensen.

Jensen takes a shallow breath in through his nose. _Stop. Stop. Stop, you’re being stupid, you’re digging yourself a hole, just stop—_

“Then we’ll talk. If you don’t… well, I’m doing you a favor, so I figure you owe me one. You’ll have to make it up to me that you wasted my time.”

Jensen’s pretty confident that Padalecki’ll back off. He’s got him cornered, gay chicken not being a game most jocks are willing to play.

Then again, whatever his faults, Padalecki’s not most jocks. Jensen has to hand it to him when all Jared does is grit his teeth and extend his right hand.

“Deal?”

Jensen hesitates for a fraction of a second to listen to the voice of reason screaming in his head. But his pride gets the better of him. There’s no way Jared’s going to pass anyways. He can’t even finish the homework without Jensen, and so far he’s copied most of it anyways.

Jensen shakes on it. “I look forward to finding out if your mouth’s good for anything besides bullshitting.”

Jared grins in response, wicked gleam back in spades. “Likewise.”

After that Jared’s practically a model student. It doesn’t matter; there’s no way he’s gonna be able to make up for weeks’ worth of material.

Still, the hours Jensen spends with Jared in the library are a lot more tolerable with the prospect of Jared getting on his knees for him in the near future.


	4. Four

_I recognize the smile_   
_There are some things I cannot forget_   
_It may be for a while_   
_I'll pretend that we have never met_   
_We have never met_   
_We have never met_   
  
_And maybe we will part_   
_Will your paranoia keep you warm_   
_I'll eat it from your heart_   
_I will still enjoy to watch you fall_

 

Three days later they hit another roadblock.

Jared comes to the library sporting a black eye he claims Tom gave him on purpose during lacrosse practice and refuses to sit still and listen to what Jensen’s trying to teach him about integration.

“I swear to God I’m gonna kick his ass, I don’t even give a shit if they kick me out—”

Jensen interrupts.

“Have you ever come across the term ‘brute force attack’ in a Comp Sci class? It’s a bit antiquated, but still appropriate.”

“Might’ve,” Jared mumbles. He has the grace to at least look sheepish as Jensen lays into him.

“It’s when someone’s trying to break into your shit and they just _keep at it._ There’s no method, just trial and error. It’s the hacking equivalent of throwing yourself at a door until it gives out.”

“And?”

“ _And_ it takes time. It’s a sloppy, impatient way to get what you want. Most of the time it doesn’t work ‘cause of the sheer number of possible combinations. Not to mention, most sites and operating systems have security in place that allows limited tries. You try ten different combinations and it’s obvious you’re not the real account owner. They alert the actual user so the mark knows someone’s trying to fuck with them.”

“Is this some kind of metaphor for telling me I suck at this?” Jared asks, clearly bored.

“Basically,” Jensen says with a scowl. “I take pleasure in a job well done, Padalecki, and if you’d ever worked at something a day in your life maybe you’d understand.”

Jared leans in closer, cornering Jensen into the cubicle. He smells like Old Spice, his warm breath barely tickling Jensen’s throat. Jensen swallows and stares straight ahead.

“What, so you think I can’t do anything? You think I’m useless?”

Jared’s crowding him with that oversized body. It’s not fair since his presence alone knocks the breath out of Jensen. He’s so _big._ No matter how smart or capable Jensen is, he’s forced to the defensive when Padalecki chooses to throw his weight around.

“I think you have your talents. An eye for detail isn’t one of them. You try any half-cocked ideas and I’m not gonna help you with _anything_ because you’ll get caught in a day.” Jensen’s proud that he manages to keep his tone level.

Jared isn’t smiling anymore. The change makes Jensen’s stomach twist into knots.

“Maybe you’re right about that one,” Jared concedes, eyes sweeping over Jensen. He bites his lip and leans back in his chair. He waves his hand for Jensen to continue.

Jensen lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and straightens his tie.

“But there are other ways. Better. In hacking, you work out a simple algorithm and _bam,_ you’ve narrowed the field. Things get a hell of a lot easier.”

“What about Al Gore?”

Jensen sighs. “Are you getting a single word I’m saying?”

“Believe it or not, I think so.”

“Anyways—algorithms generate possibilities for you. All it takes is a simple formula. It’s so _clean._ You’ve just got to have a little patience. You can even design a way to find a backdoor of sorts…”

Jared snorts at his use of “backdoor.”

“…and you don’t even need to fuck around with usernames or passwords.”

“How would we do that?”

 “The simplest way is to design a Trojan.”

Jared laughs, disbelieving. “Wow, Trojans _and_ backdoors.”

Jensen fiddles with the top button of his cuff. _I will not verbally abuse I will not verbally abuse…_

“So you can do all that shit?”

“Yeah, with enough time. I’m not the best but I know people who owe me one if I can’t do it.”

“Damn. And here I was thinking you had all your toes on the right side of the line.” Jared says it like a compliment.

“Satisfied?”

Jared looks at him.

“For now.”

 

*****

 

Jensen’s actually struck dumb. That, or he’s still asleep and having a bizarre nightmare.

“I know curving is unusual for this class,” Dr. Morgan continues, “But I realized we probably didn’t go into as much detail on chapter six as we should have. A lot of you would’ve done better if we hadn’t gone through the material so fast. So, have two extra percentage points on me.”

Jared’s staring at him. He can feel it.

Morgan starts the next lesson and Jared watches him the whole time. If he wasn’t so tightly wound worrying about having to pay up on their bet, Jensen would be pissed that Padalecki’s stillnot paying attention in class.

Surely he doesn’t think Jensen’s _actually_ going to blow him? They’re not even friends _—_ not that that would make it any less weird. If he’d failed (which he did, without that goddamn curve), Jensen’s not sure he would’ve held Jared to it either. Sure, head is head and it’s all great but—

The bell rings and the class clamors to collect their books and bags, jostling Jensen on their dash for the door and escape from Calculus.

One figure lags behind.

Jensen pushes his glasses up his nose and piles his books one on top of the other slowly before loading them into his bag, pretending not to notice Padalecki. His knees shake a little and not in a million years did he think it’d come to this and he’s not _really_ going to have to blow Jared because that would just be weird and awkward as all hell.

Morgan nods to Jensen, snaps the clasps on his briefcase, and exits, leaving Jensen alone.

Well, alone with Jared.

“You didn’t pass,” Jensen whirls around and protests as soon as the door shuts.

Jared’s in his space again, holding up his test for Jensen to see.

“That’s a 71 there, Ackles. That’s passing,” Jared taps the number written on the top of the page. He gives Jensen a lazy smile.

Jared’s collar is coming untucked from under his uniform jacket and Jensen reaches out to fix it before he’s even thought about what he’s doing.

“Yeah, with the _curve,_ ” he retorts, focusing his attention on smoothing the fabric of Jared’s shirt and tugging his tie so it sits properly.

Jared clears his throat and Jensen’s hands drop back to his sides, his ears turning red.

“If you wanna get technical. Or if you’re looking for an excuse to bitch out on me,” Jared leers.  “Fair’s fair. I passed. You gonna hold up your end?”

Jensen bristles. “If I’d known he was gonna do that—”

Jared raises an eyebrow and Jensen splutters to a stop. He doesn’t mean right now? He can’t, they’re still in public and there’s no guarantee someone wouldn’t walk in on them and that’s _if_ Jensen decides to pay up.

Jared reaches out and adjusts Jensen’s own tie and Jensen’s legs go liquid.

_No way no way no way no—_

“I’ll collect some other time,” Jared says, smiling and swinging his bag over his shoulder. “I mean, if you don’t chicken out. See ya later, Ackles.”

 

*****

 

Jensen spends the next week avoiding Jared. Every time they see each other in the halls, Jared’s eyes seem to zero in on him and he just fucking _smirks._

The whole avoidance thing also isn’t ideal because they’re supposed to be working on Dinwiddie’s project together.

Jensen practices as much as he can between his other homework, but speaking in front of a mirror is hardly the same as reciting it for the class.

Sophia comes over to help him and ends up teasing him for the way he keeps crossing his legs.

“You’re gonna fall over if you do that in class,” she sniggers.

So Jensen tries again. This time he can’t keep his hands out of his pockets or his shoulders down.

“Jensen,” Sophia barks. “ _Relax.”_

“I’m trying!” Jensen snaps. “It’s a little hard with you pointing out something I’m doing wrong every three seconds.”

"I’m helping you. Dinwiddie would take points off for everything you’re doing, believe me.”

Jensen sighs and grabs a mint from the bowl on his desk and collapses on to his bed.

“What about Padalecki, where’s he for all this? Isn’t he supposed to be your partner?”

“Yeah,” Jensen feels a flush creeping up his neck. “He, uh… has something with student council.”

It’s a stupid lie since all Sophia has to do is ask Jared next time she sees him. He should’ve said something about lacrosse.

“Oh fuck, there’s not a meeting today is there?” Sophia starts flipping frantically through her day planner. “No, okay. Whew. I do _not_ have time for that shit today.”

She sits next to Jensen on his bed.

“Still, sucks he’s not here ‘cause he’s actually pretty good at giving speeches.”

“Yeah, sucks,” Jensen winces.

The last thing he wants is to hear Jared’s name and ‘sucks’ in the same sentence.

 

*****

 

Public speaking was conceived by Satan himself.

Jensen can do it, he knows he can, but it doesn’t stop him from sweating a river on which he could probably row a boat back to his dorm.

Even practicing in his room had nearly given him a hernia. He’s so not ready for this and he hasn’t spoken to Padalecki since Calc. He emailed Jared his slides a couple of days ago without a single sentence included in the message and can only hope Jared’s brought the rest on his flash drive.

All the other seats in the room are taken when he walks into class, forcing him to sit next to Padalecki.

Jared’s slouching in his seat and examining his blunt fingernails and Jensen barely contains the urge to punch him in his stupid, pretty face.

Jensen can’t pay attention to any of the presentations before theirs, too busy trying to ignore Padalecki and keep himself from sprinting out the door.

Eventually, he cracks.

“Did you practice?” he whispers to Jared stiffly.

“Nah,” Jared shrugs and taps his temple with his index finger. “I got it.”

“You didn’t—” Jensen hisses, but Dinwiddie cuts him off.

“Yellow fever group, you’re up.”

Jared presses the flash drive into Jensen’s hand and he jumps at the contact before realizing everyone’s eyes are on him.

He gets to his feet with shaky knees and begins what feels like a ten mile walk to the front of the room. Twenty pairs of eyes are fixed on him and all of his classmates’ faces are already blurring together.

“I’m uh… Jensen Ackles, and uh, my partner is, uh, Jared Padalecki and we’ve got…uh, yellow fever.”

Someone sniggers in the back row.

“I mean, we’re uh, talking about yellow fever,” Jensen corrects hastily.

He can see Dinwiddie’s brow furrow even from the front of the room.

“So uh—it’s a viral infection, passed on by mosquito bites and it has, um, three stages, starting with infection…”

Jensen glances down at the notecards in his hands, but he can’t read his own handwriting. He’s so tense that it all looks like meaningless blobs.

“Uh, and that’s mostly common flu symptoms like headache and…”

He happens to look up, right at where Jared’s sitting in the corner. Jared mimes giving head from across the room, tongue poking his cheek out obscenely.

Jensen coughs and pushes his glasses up his nose. His palms totally aren’t sweating and his ears are definitely not going red.

“…and then it goes to the second stage, which is like, um, remission where the fever stuff kinda fades out.”

Jared’s mouth is wide and generous, his lips a distracting shade of light pink.

Jensen sort of wants to scream at the room _why does nobody see this but me?_ But that would be bad for his grade so he grits his teeth and stares over Jared’s head. Having something to ignore actually helps him focus and his words flow much easier.

“And then you either recover or get worse—the third stage, intoxication, is when organ failure can occur. There can be heart, liver, and kidney failure. Sometimes there are seizures, and uh, even comas and stuff.”

Jensen doesn’t feel like puking quite as much but that’s until he notices that half the class is checking their phones under their desks. Chad looks like he might be asleep.

In the back of the room, Tom Welling is passing a note to Sandy McCoy.

“It’s, uh…”

Sandy giggles behind her hand and starts writing back. Apparently satisfied, Tom turns his attention back to Jensen.

“Uh…”

Jensen looks at Tom and sees red. He’s completely derailed, embarrassed that his speech is so boring people have to resort to passing notes like they’re in middle school.

Dinwiddie frowns, waiting for Jensen to spit it out. But he can’t.

Tom sniggers behind his hand and Jensen goes even redder, torn between the desire to tear Tom’s head off or maybe have Tom tear _his_ head off so he doesn’t have to deal with the humiliation of watching his grade tank before his eyes.

Suddenly, Tom pitches forward, crying out and holding the back of his head.

The class actually wakes up to stare at him instead and Jensen’s so grateful he might send Tom a cookie bouquet for the well-timed spasm.

Dinwiddie shoots him a reproving glance and Jensen puts two and two together a second later when he notices a pink full-sized eraser lying next to Tom’s shoes and the satisfied look on Jared’s face.

Jared gets to his feet. “Thanks, Jensen.”

He makes his way to the front of the class.

“As my partner was saying, yellow fever is particularly common in South America and Africa…”

Jared’s picking up his slack; doing the work for which Jensen was responsible.

And he’s _good_ at it.

He looks around the room, holding his classmates’ gazes so that they won’t look at their phones or pass notes or whatever else. He’s tall and commanding, yet likable and laid back. He makes jokes easily during the presentation without coming off as unprofessional.

Jensen, meanwhile, stares at him, dumbfounded.

How the hell can he be so damn good at this when he didn’t even _practice?_

Jared rattles off facts and figures about infection, including the complications and how to diagnose it.

Jensen has to jump in again at some point to reach his ten minute minimum, so he picks the slide about vaccinations to say, “Thanks, Jared,” and conclude their presentation by recapping his own slides and then everything Jared just said, only much less articulately.

The class applauds half-heartedly and Jensen’s stomach loosens, his knees shaking twice as hard as before.

It’s over.

“Jensen and Jared, stick around after class and I’ll have your grade. The rest of you, be prepared for next class’ presentations,” Dinwiddie says over the racket of people trying to get out of the room as fast as possible.

Jensen doesn’t look at Jared, still fuming over how badly he’s been shown up without Jared having to try at all.

Dinwiddie waits until the room is empty before turning her attention to the two of them. “Well done, guys.”

She smiles, and Jensen could swear there’s something like kindness in her eyes. He didn’t think it was possible for her to empathize with other human beings.

"I wanted to hear more from you, Jensen. Next time you’re going to have to prepare better. However, your information was good and your slides were well-designed.”

She hands Jensen a paper back with his grade written in red pen at the bottom.

“You worked well with Jared. I’d like to see that level of communication between you in the future.”

93.

He got an actual A in public speaking. Granted, the lowest A possible, but an _actual fucking A._ He cuts his glance to Jared, who seems happy enough with the grade. He probably would’ve done better without Jensen dragging him down but he can’t complain too much.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday. Have a good weekend,” Dinwiddie says, swinging her purse over her shoulder and exiting the room.

Jared follows her without saying a word to Jensen, but Jensen’s suddenly walking fast to catch him.

He doesn’t know why he’s not just letting things go as they are. Talking to Padalecki’s only going to make things more awkward, but he probably wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near as good a grade if he’d had to work with Rob Benedict or Chad.

Jared’s already halfway down the hall by the time Jensen calls out to him.

“Hey, Padalecki, wait up.”

Jared stops and turns around.

“Yeah?” His tone is neutral, not giving Jensen anything to go on.

“Uh, I just wanted to say thanks.”

Jared shrugs. “It was my grade, too.”

“I know, but. Thanks.”

"Sure,” Jared says. Then he smiles. “You shoulda seen your face, I thought you were gonna hurl.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jensen admits. In fact, his palms still feel a little clammy. He wipes them on his khakis.

They stand in silence for a moment, not looking at each other.

“If you ever try to fuck with me when I’m giving a presentation like that again, I’ll kick your ass.”

Jared blinks, surprised, and then realizes Jensen’s joking.

“I’d like to see you try, Ackles. You gonna bite my kneecaps?”

“Shut up, I’m not even short. You’re just a sasquatch.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jared waves him off. “You know, Dinwiddie’s right. We made a pretty good team.”

“I guess,” Jensen says warily.

“Seriously. You know your stuff, even if you can’t spit out what you’re trying to say.”

“Thanks,” Jensen changes the subject. “So, you wanna go over Calc tonight in the library?”

He’s not sure why Padalecki’s trying to play nice all of a sudden, unless…

“I was thinking we could meet somewhere else,” Jared says. His tone is light but he’s dead serious and Jensen has a hunch he’s not talking about a study session.

“What? Where?” Jensen croaks, hoping his pathetic attempt at naïveté will get him out of the corner he’s rapidly backing himself into.

“Don’t think I forgot about what you owe me,” Jared says softly.

He’s not laughing anymore.

 

*****

 

Later that night, Jensen’s phone vibrates on his bedside table like he knew it would.

_Locker room in fifteen._

So this is it.

He’s been pacing ever since they parted ways in the hall, remembering how serious Jared had been when he said _you owe me._

For a moment, he considers ignoring the text; pretending he never got it when Jared inevitably corners him after class one day. But he’s never been one to back down from a challenge, especially when his ego’s at stake. Besides, giving head can be sorta fun sometimes— makes him feel in control, watching those guys squirm and say his name. It’s the same thrill he gets from being good at everything else.

And hey, at least the press about him has been good. Something about his mouth being made for it according to the guys he’s blown. He’s almost flattered that Jared’s heard his rep, but then Jensen’s gotten around to a few of Jared’s teammates at parties. Matt Cohen, for one. Deep down he might have a thing for sports uniforms.

Jensen fusses over his hair, brushes his teeth about six times. He’s glad that he never bothered changing after class ‘cause he’s not sure of the proper dress code for a BJ date.

Still, this isn’t anything he’s prepared for and he’s banking on Jared backing out before he does.

The night is cool and the wet grass leaves his Chucks damp as he starts the walk to the gym. He wonders what Sophia would say if she knew—this is more her game than his, and just thinking that makes him feel like a terrible friend. But she’d know what to do in this situation a hell of a lot better than he does.

This whole thing with Padalecki’s only getting worse. He doesn’t know how it’s going to end except badly, because there’s no way something as fucked up as their (Relationship? Partnership? Friendship?) _situation_ can be healthy in any way.

He knocks on the locker room door and waits. Jared greets him with a weak imitation of his usual grin. He steps back to let Jensen inside.

He’s wearing his uniform too, with his shaggy hair disheveled like he’s been running his hands through it.

It’s dark and smells like B.O. It’s possibly the least romantic place in the entire world, which is actually better because they don’t kiss, don’t pretend it’s anything other than what it is much to Jensen’s relief.

Neither of them makes a move. It’s awkward as any high school hook-up with the added knowledge that they’re in a _locker room_ after hours and they don’t even like each other.

Jared clears his throat.

“Look, uh…”

Jensen cocks his head to the side, an eyebrow raised. “Is this the part where you’re gonna tell me I don’t have to do this?”

Jared fumbles over his words.

“C’mon, Padalecki, I expected more balls from you.”

He’s glad Jared’s unsure because it gives him a source of bravado from which he can draw, so he can act like his own stomach’s not twisted into figure eights.

And because Jensen kinda… _wants_ to do this. Partly because he made a bet and a little because he’s curious to find out what Padalecki tastes like and he’s spent the entire week psyching himself up for this moment. He never would’ve agreed to the bet if he hadn’t thought Jared was hot no matter what else he thinks about him. Besides, they’ll probably never speak again afterwards. Might as well give the kid something to remember him by.

“Well, you don’t,” Jared exhales and gives a shaky laugh. “But I’d appreciate it.”

Jensen closes the gap between them, chests an inch apart. He drags his gaze from Jared’s eyes down his body, keeps his expression neutral. He drops to his knees, face level with Jared’s groin. Jared sucks in a breath and murmurs, “Fuck,” as he braces himself against a row of lockers.

Jensen can almost feel Jared’s nerves pulled tight and humming underneath him.

He could do the deed in about four minutes with little fanfare, but he’s not stupid. He knows there’s more at stake here than getting head. If Padalecki wanted a blowjob that badly all he’d have to do is send a text to one of his entourage.

No, Jensen’s going to make this count, make Jared remember who he’s messing with. He doesn’t “hook up,” except on his own terms, let alone with dudes who look like they’ve walked out of Abercrombie catalogues. He doesn’t get on his knees for jocks he can’t stand unless it benefits him.

He rubs his hand over Jared’s zipper and cups the shape of him. Jared shudders and presses flat against the lockers.

“Ackles—”

“You thought I’d pussy out, didn’t you?” Jensen presses his face in closer and mouths at Jared through his khakis.

“Y-yeah.”

The quiver in Jared’s voice has his own cock stirring. Padalecki’s nervous because of him,and _that_ thought goes straight to his ego. Jared’s confession only makes it better. There’s not a lot Jensen likes more than proving people wrong.

He takes his time getting the front of Jared’s pants wet with saliva, smirks at how hard Jared already feels against his lips.

Jensen glances up at Jared and fumbles with his belt buckle. Jared’s sucked his lip into his mouth and looks like he might cry or start praying. When Jensen gets his pants down he finds Jared’s boxers soaking wet already, the tented red plaid so absurd Jensen almost laughs.

If life was fair Jared would be all of three inches. His shitty attitude would be overcompensation like jocks in the movies. But as Jensen slips Jared’s boxers down his hips, he finds out that Jared has absolutely nothing to prove.

Figures he’d be proportional.

He kisses down Jared’s lower stomach into wiry hair. He’s got a mole right next to his sac and for some reason it’s really cute. He glances up at Jared, who’s watching him with his bottom lip still between his teeth.

Jensen doesn’t break eye contact as he gets a grip on the base of Jared’s cock, thick and straining in his fist. Jared hisses, cringes when Jensen swallows him down.

Jared’s doing that mouth hanging open thing again but this time it’s kinda nice.

Sucking Jared off is almost… fun, if Jensen’s being honest. He makes these great noises like he can’t believe what’s happening, little whimpers and bitten off moans that Jensen takes as compliments.

He keeps scrabbling to get a hold in Jensen’s hair but it’s just too short so he claws at the lockers behind him instead. It gets even better once Jensen works his way past the head of Jared’s cock and takes him deeper into his throat.

It’s not the most graceful blowjob he’s ever given, but Jared’s pretty big and it’s not like he’s had loads of experience besides watching too much porn.

“Christ,” Jared pants. “ChristChrist _Christ.”_

Jensen smiles around Jared’s dick and works his way towards the base while Jared’s hips start thrusting. He can’t get all the way down and compensates by fisting the length he can’t cover with his mouth.

“God. _God_ , Ackles.”

Jensen slides off Jared’s dick, dragging his tongue over the crown, muttering “Shut up, Padalecki,” and taking him back in again. Jared’s really wet, filling Jensen’s mouth with precome with every flutter of his throat muscles.

“L-love it when you call me that,” Jared confesses with his eyes screwed up tight. He’s holding himself back, trying not to choke Jensen.

Jensen laughs around his mouthful of Jared and it only makes him moan louder. Who’dve thought he’d be a sweet talker in the sack?

 Jensen puts one hand on Jared’s mostly bare, and _hello_ , very firm ass. Jared stops squirming for a second then gets the hint.

“Fuck,” he moans again and his hips rock in a slow, shallow rhythm. Jensen takes it as best he can. He’s never let anyone do this; it’s always been about staying on top, getting it done. But he likes watching Jared lose his mind and fall apart.

Matt and Chris were pretty hot and decent guys. Jared’s…

Jensen’s eyes flick upwards to Jared’s face. His eyes are scrunched closed, a sliver of tan chest visible all slick with sweat; a wet dream come to life and he tastes like salt and boy and Jensen can’t get enough of the weight of him on his tongue.

He swats Jared’s ass and thankfully Padalecki proves to be a faster learner than Jensen gave him credit for. He starts pistoning deeper and faster. Jensen’s drooling on him and he’d be embarrassed if Jared wasn’t carrying on like a fucking banshee, moaning and groaning and panting a mixture of endearments and swear words.

“Fuck…‘s good…”

Jensen’s aching, his own cock pushing against cotton. He wishes Jared would shut up. It’s making him feel like he’s in bad porn and gets his stomach twisting up in all kinds of confusing new ways.

He’s very carefully notthinking about how he’s getting hard off having his face fucked, and by _Jared Padalecki_ of all people.

Jared’s hands, massive,long-fingered hands, cup his face and Jensen has to remember to breathe through his nose so he doesn’t gag.

“Gonna. Gonna—” Jared gasps.

He makes a move to pull back but Jensen digs his thumbs into the groove of Jared’s hipbones, his fingers sunk in the meat of Jared’s ass cheeks to keep him right where he is. Jared’s breath punches out of him in a whine and he comes in Jensen’s mouth. Jensen lets him finish, filled with the hot, bitter taste. He tastes stronger than Matt did, less sweet.

And yeah, so it wasn’t all bad. Doesn’t mean he owes it to Jared to swallow.

Jensen spits on to the floor next to Jared’s Pumas and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Someone’s gonna be in for a nasty surprise when they come in to use their locker for P.E. tomorrow.

Jensen stays slumped on his knees in front of Jared, the two of them panting in unison. Jensen’s too dazed to move even though Jared’s hands are still on him.

“Perfect,” Jared murmurs, his fingertips sliding through Jensen’s hair. “Jesus.”

“Jensen,” Jensen corrects, smirking. His gut’s full of warm honey and he’s really hard. It smells like sex and sweat and the flavor of Jared lingers on his tongue.

Jared grumbles and hitches up his boxers, tucking himself back into his pants and smoothing his hair. It’s only when he looks down at Jensen that he notices Jensen’s popped wood.

He doesn’t say anything as he reaches down to pull Jensen to his feet. Jensen’s already making a move to leave when Jared spins him around and shoves _him_ against the wall.

Jensen chokes and tries to speak, but he ends up stuttering like an idiot instead.

Jared starts messing with his belt and untucking Jensen’s Oxford, hazel eyes over-bright as his wonderful, long fingers slip down the front of Jensen’s khakis. He looks like he’s about to say something but grins instead.

Jensen’s mind is whiting out— _can’t be happening can’t be happening—_ because he wants it so fucking bad that he doesn’t think he can handle it.

But then his brain snaps back into action and he straightens up, stepping back from Jared.

Fuck Padalecki. He can take his blowjob and get the hell out of Jensen’s space. He’s paid his dues and then some.

“Don’t touch me,” Jensen snarls. “I don’t need a pity jerk.”

Jared recoils like Jensen hit him. For a second his face is blank, eyes wide. Then he shrugs.

“Okay. If that’s what you want.”

He pulls his belt through the loops on his pants and Jensen wishes he’d hurry up.

Instead he takes his sweet ol’ time picking his shit up off the floor and making a big show of fixing his uniform.

He stops in the doorway and says over his shoulder, “Thanks for the head, Ackles.” He glances down at the mess on the floor and adds, “But you could’ve swallowed,” and lets the door slam shut behind him.

 

*****

 

Jensen plays the scene over and over in bed that night.

It’d been stupid to think blowing Jared wouldn’t be all kinds of fucked up, bet or no bet.

 _Perfect,_ he’d said. And yeah, Jensen understands the mechanics of “dirty talk”; that people say stuff in the heat of the moment that they don’t mean. Especially when they’ve finished coming their brains out. Sex is sex. It’s what he told himself before he decided he’d follow through on his bet with Jared.

It’s just, when Jared said it, Jensen had sort of believed it.

 


	5. Five

_I want love to,_  
 _forget that you offended me_  
 _or how you have defended me,_  
 _when everybody tore me down._  
  
 _Yeah I want love to_  
 _change my friends to enemies,_  
 _change my friends to enemies_  
 _and show me how it's all my fault._

Jensen has plenty of time the next day to plan what to do next. So naturally he doesn’t start walking over to Marshall Hall and Jared’s dorm ‘til near curfew.

He has nothing to gain and everything to lose by apologizing to Jared. Still, he sort of wants to see how Jared reacts. He might just slam the door in his face, or…

He hasn’t really thought about the alternatives, but they haven’t even started working on the Tom situation and Jensen’s serious about that, at least.

                The third floor’s empty of students, but bass so loud it vibrates through the floor comes from a room somewhere on his left and he can hear the shouts of guys getting too competitive over _Call of Duty_ coming from the right.

                A muffled “HANG ON,” comes from Room 319 after Jensen knocks.

                Jared blinks like he’s unsure of what he’s seeing and leans against the door.

                “I’m sorry for, uh, freaking out on you,” Jensen mumbles.

                “’Salright. Just thought you might wanna…” Jared trails off like he’s not sure what Jensen would want. “But whatever. It’s done, man.”

                “You sure?”

                “Ackles, please. I’m not devastated I didn’t get to touch your dick, okay? I think I’ll recover.”

                Jensen flushes. He didn’t really mean it like that. He chooses to ignore Jared’s response and asks, “So there’re no hard feelings, right?”

                “No,” Jared says. “Why, are there for you?”

                “No.”

                They stare at each other.

                “Okay, this is weird,” Jensen laughs. “Do you wanna, like, plot some shit to ruin Tom’s life or something?”

                Jared grins, his dimples making an appearance for the first time since Jensen showed up.

                “Now you’re talkin’.”

                Jared steps back to let him into his dorm.

It’s about as neat as one would expect from a room lived in by two LAX bros. Clothes are strewn everywhere, both Jared’s and his roommate’s by the looks of it. Even Jared’s bed is covered in a pile of wrinkled t-shirts.

                “Sit where you can,” Jared tells him, wading through the mess to sit on the top of his desk.

                Jensen perches on the edge of Jared’s bed. The blankets are all pushed back where Jared presumably got out of it that morning and the bottom sheet’s rumpled and slipping off so the white mattress pad beneath shows.

                “So, what’re you thinking?”

                Jared sticks his head into his closet, digging around for something in the stack of shit he’s piled inside it. Jensen can make out sports equipment, lacrosse sticks, shoulder pads, beaten up sneakers, and old text books separating from their spines.

                At long last he pulls out a six pack of beer and tosses one to Jensen.

                “It’s a little warm since we don’t keep it in the fridge in case an RA gets nosy.”

                Jensen’s not really in the mood, but he doesn’t want to look like a wuss so he pops the can of Yuengling open and takes a sip. It’s too bubbly and room temperature, yet not the worst thing he’s ever had.

                “I was thinking something simple to start. Tom’s presentation is tomorrow, right?”

                Jared nods.

                “Well, I’m gonna need to get his flash drive. I could fuck with him without it, but it’ll be so much easier if we just work straight from the source.”

                “And you need me for this because…?” Jared asks, gulping down his beer.

                “You see him a lot more than I do. The locker room would be a great chance to get it without him noticing it’s gone. I can work on ‘fixing’ his presentation while you’re both out on the field.”

                “Okay, easy enough. I can pretend I forgot something and run back. Can you meet me there right after fourth period starts?”

                Jensen nods. “You’ll have to get his locker combo.”

                “No problem.”

                “If he has any time to fix his PowerPoint, he’ll be able to change it back and he’ll know someone’s messing with him.”

                “Sounds simple.”

                “Yeah, should be.”

                Jensen stares at the floor for a minute.

                He’s not about to say it out loud but all he can think about is the way Jared moaned when he sucked him off. He probably won’t ever be able to look at him the same, even if things aren’t necessarily tense or any more awkward than usual between them.

                “You wanna stick around and finish that beer?” Jared asks.

                He doesn’t, but he agrees anyways.

                Hanging out with Padalecki voluntarily isn’t something he’d ever thought he’d do, but it turns out to be pretty okay.

                They work their way through the six pack and talk about class and the new Tarantino flick and definitely not about blowjobs.

                Jared clears his throat.

                “So, I’ve got a lacrosse game on Thursday night, if uh, you wanna see it. It’s probably gonna be my last of the season with my grades being what they are.”

                Jensen glances up from his beer.

                “I mean, if you want to. I’ve heard our games are fun to watch and stuff,” Jared shrugs.

                To be honest, sitting on metal bleachers to watch a bunch of jocks fling a ball around is just about the last thing he’d want to do on a Thursday. Padalecki doesn’t seem to be expecting anything, which makes it harder for Jensen to say no. Jared probably thinks he’d rather spend the time studying (which is kinda true, he has work for European History) or something, so he has no choice but to agree.

                “Yeah, I’ll uh… I’ll think about it.”

                Jared nods. “It’s cool if you don’t want to come. I mean, it’s not a big deal. I won’t be offended.”

                “Yeah,” Jensen looks away. “Did you start the Calc homework yet?”

                Jared grimaces. “About that…”

                “Lemme see what you’ve got so far,” Jensen holds out his hand.

                Jared pulls a sheaf of paper out from under a stack of books on his desk. He got up to problem three which takes up half the page, a handful of attempts scribbled out in pencil.

                “I was doing okay until the chapter seven problems,” Jared says.

                “You’ve only got two done.”

                “Yeah, I know, but I’ve been busy and stuff.” Jared scratches the back of his neck.

                “Look, I got it,” Jensen says, folding the paper into a square and putting it in his pocket.

                “Really?” Jared asks, eyebrows raised.

                “Yeah, not like it’s hard or anything.”

                Jared smiles, dimples making big dents in his cheeks.

                “Seriously, Ackles, I owe you one.”

                “Don’t worry about it,” Jensen murmurs, flushed. The last thing he wants is to end up in another situation of “owing” with Padalecki.

                Just then there’s a knock at the door.

                “Jared, lights out!”

                Jared gestures wildly at Jensen. “Under the bed! Quick!”

                Luckily, the door gets stuck on Jared’s backpack and Jensen has an extra minute to cram himself underneath Jared’s bed with the empty beer cans and a collection of dirty socks.

                “Where’s your roommate?” Jared’s RA asks.

                “Still at the library. He has an exam tomorrow.”

                The RA pauses. “Alright. Tell him that he’s gotta be back by curfew next time.”

                “I will, sir.”

                “And clean up your room once in a while, eh? The floor’s a mess and I don’t even want to think about what’s living under your bed at this point.”

                “No sir, you don’t.” Jensen can practically hear the grin in Jared’s voice.

                The RA laughs. “Alright, Jared. Goodnight.”

                “Night, Mr. Andrews.”

                The door clicks shut again and Jensen gives it a minute or two before he crawls out from under the mattress.

                “I forgot other people’s RAs actually do their jobs,” he grumbles.

                “Yeah, Andrews is pretty serious.”

                Which is why Jensen’s not really sure why Jared’s risking getting caught, except to try and look cool and even then, having some glasses-wearing overachiever hiding under your bed afterhours is hardly a badass move.

                Jared helps him to his feet.

                “Anyways, I, uh. I gotta get going, so.”

                “Yeah, yeah. No problem,” Jared says, scratching the back of his neck.

                “Locker room, around noon?”

                “Yeah, I’ll be there,” Jared nods.

                *****

                The next day, Jared opens the door to the locker room right on schedule.

                The first thing Jensen registers is shock at how Jared actually manages to make the school’s gym uniform look good. The thin gray cotton sits easily on him, the faintest outline of muscle visible through the fabric.

Jensen tears his eyes away.

                “You get it?”

                Jared grins. “Please. Piece of cake.”

                He hands the black flash drive off to Jensen, their fingers brushing for a fraction of a second.

                “Oh, I almost forgot,” Jensen says, swinging his bookbag off his shoulder. He digs through it for a minute before pulling out a piece of paper with the Calc homework answers on it.

                “Thanks, man. Like, really,” Jared says.

                Jensen shrugs in response.

                “See you in Grammar and Comp.”

 

*****

Jensen watches Tom flip through his notes. His stomach’s gone to water and he has to wipe sweaty palms on his khakis three times before Welling’s presentation starts.

                Jared raises an eyebrow. Jensen shakes his head without looking at him. He’d hate to ruin the surprise because if all goes to plan things are gonna get a lot more interesting than tuberculosis.

                Tom steps up to the podium and clears his throat, clicking to begin his PowerPoint.

                “My name is Tom Welling,” he introduces himself with a winning smile, “and I’ll be speaking to you all about tuberculosis.”

Everyone in the class is paying attention. It’s easy with Tom making eye contact, not letting his audience get distracted. He’s better at speaking than Jensen. There’s no hint of stutter or nerves in his voice and it only makes what Jensen’s about to do easier, except every time Welling smiles Jensen’s more in favor of calling the whole thing off and just letting Jared punch him in the face instead.

                His blue eyes light briefly on Jensen as he explains the origins of the disease. Jensen swallows, trying to hold his gaze without looking guilty.

                Welling has no idea what’s in store for him. He has no way of knowing it was Jensen, either.

                A warm jolt of delight shoots up from Jensen’s gut and goes straight to his head.

                Tom clicks to his next slide.

                He’s close. So fucking close. Jensen shifts in his chair and chews the cap of his pen.

                “…the image on the left is a set of healthy lungs, and on the right you can see what tuberculosis does over time.”

                He clicks again.

                “This link is a video which will demonstrate how the bacteria spreads and infects the pulmonary system.”

                Tom clicks a blue hyperlink at the top of his slide and a loud moan bursts through the speakers. It takes the class about three seconds to realize what’s going on and even longer for Tom to get it.

                The video supposed to show the spread of bacteria is instead a close-up shot of a dark-haired man putting his thumbs into someone’s asshole and stretching it to give his tongue a better angle.

                He laps at the tight hole, rimming the guy under him for all he’s worth.

                The class’ shrieks of laughter almost cover up the moaning.

                Tom’s mouth drops open and he flails over the keyboard, slamming escape over and over with no effect.

                “I didn’t! I—”

                But no one’s listening.

                Jared’s howling next to Jensen, slapping his palm down on his desk. Most of the guys in the room are making a big show of covering their eyes and being grossed out, but not him. He’s too busy reveling in Tom’s humiliation.

                Dr. Dinwiddie climbs on a desk to try and turn off the projector.

                “ _Oh yeah baby, right there, mmm, yeah…”_

“CAN YOU MUTE THAT THING?” She shouts over the chaos.

                Tom’s scarlet, his hands fumbling all over the place. He’s sure as hell stammering now, Jensen notes.

                “ _Yeah, fuck me with your tongue, yeah. So fucking hot.”_

Jensen’s grinning so wide his face hurts, but he finally takes pity on Tom and gets up to help him. His point’s been made anyways.

                “Here, like this,” He pushes Tom out of the way and closes out of the windows. A dozen pop-ups of porn cover the desktop, and Jensen has a “hard time” figuring out how to close them.

                The truly wonderful thing about growing up in the twenty-first century is technology. The ads are all .gifs of people fucking, mostly big hunky guys bending over smaller dudes, the camera zooming in on their cocks going in and out.

                One ad offers a very detailed depiction of a facial that replays in slow-motion about ten times before Dr. Dinwiddie shepherds Jensen’s cackling classmates into the hall.

                Jensen chose that particular site for a reason. It’s chock full of viruses and they’re already eating away at Dr. Dinwiddie’s computer. Ad after ad pops up on the desktop, each more obscene than the last.

                “Tom, I’m going to have to send you to the headmaster for this even if it _was_ an accident. I could lose my job if I don’t.”

                Tom looks like he’d rather throw himself out of the window but he grabs his bag and practically sprints out of the room.

                Jensen, Jared, and Dr. Dinwiddie are the only people left. It’s a bit awkward, what with the grunting and wet noises coming from Dinwiddie’s totally fucked (no pun intended) computer.

                Jensen mutes the volume again.

                “Is there anything I can do about these?” She points at the screen without looking at it.

                “Um, maybe. But you’d have to take it in to someone who knows what they’re doing. Might have to replace the hard drive and all that,” Jensen says.

                “Jensen’s pretty good with computers, Dinwiddie,” Jared tells her. He glances at Jensen with pure admiration in his eyes.

                She sighs and considers Jensen.

                “I won’t be able to take it in to a store for at least a week.”

                “I can take a look at it for you. Can’t make any promises.”

                Dinwiddie turns back to the screen for a second before flinching and looking away again.

                “Are you sure? I mean, with the…” She gestures vaguely at the ads.

                “Nothing I haven’t seen,” Jensen shrugs.

                “Well, even if you can’t fix it, I’d appreciate the effort.”

                “I’ll help you take it to your room?” Jared offers with an innocent smile.

                “Yeah. Dr. Dinwiddie, can we have a pass?”

                 
                *****

               

                “So, can you fix it?”

                “No problem,” Jensen smirks.

                Jared’s touting Dinwiddie’s Dell under his arm for Jensen as they climb the stairs to the second floor. It’s stupid, but it makes him feel like royalty to watch Padalecki doing his heavy lifting.

                “I gotta hand it to you, Ackles. That was pretty epic.”

                “Eh, it was no big deal. Easy enough, and the effect…” Jensen trails off with a big, fat smile on his face. “Let’s just say I don’t think anyone’s gonna forget what Tom’s been doing while he’s supposed to be working on his presentations.”

                “What’s next?”

                “Well, I’m gonna get Dinwiddie’s account info first. Then we’ll have a way to monitor Tom’s assignments. And mine.”

                “And then?”

                “Well, I put a gift for Tom on that flash drive,” Jensen smiles. “It’ll make things fun for me and he’ll have no one to blame but himself for opening it.”

                *****

                They spend the rest of the evening in Jensen’s dorm. On his bed, to be precise.

                Jared’s lounging back against Jensen’s pillows, a paperback copy of _Great Expectations_ folded in half at the spine in his right hand. Jensen’s pretty sure it’s for another of Dinwiddie’s classes that he’s not taking.

Jensen doesn’t think to mention how Jared’s long legs are lying across his lap. They make for a good surface to put his laptop on while he works out the Trojan’s source code anyways.

“Toss me a mint, would you?”

                Jared reaches for one out of the dish on Jensen’s desk.

                “What’s with you and these things?”

                 Jensen shrugs. “I bite my lips when I’m thinking or nervous. Mints help.”

                Jared sits up a little straighter and glances at the laptop’s screen. He does a double take.

                Jensen’s scrolling through row after row of code, rolling the mint around on his tongue as he checks his work.

                 “How did you learn all this?” Jared asks, amazed.

                Jensen shrugs. “Had a lot of free time when I was a kid. I’m nowhere near as good as Misha anyways, but I’m proficient with a few different kinds of code.”

                “They never taught me what code _was_ in school, let alone how to use it.”

                “Yeah, it’s lacking from a lot of curriculums,” Jensen nods. “And it takes a lot of practice. Most schools that teach Comp Sci will start with something like Python.”

                “What’s that?”

                “It’s a language. It’s pretty simplistic compared to others like AJAX, which is what Google Maps runs on. Misha knows it, but I can’t quite get a handle on it. If I had more time, maybe.”

“So what can you do with this thing?” Jared gestures at the screen.

“Anything I code it to do. I can see what he does any time he’s on his computer and I can interfere if I want. I can get his passwords to anything—Facebook, Email, whatever. I could wipe his hard drive, I could crash it…”

Jared blinks and licks his lips. “That’s fucking sweet. And a little scary.”

“Computers are like that,” Jensen says, smug.

“Remind me never to piss off a nerd again.”

“I’m not a _nerd,”_ Jensen huffs.

Jared raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, not in the traditional sense of the word.”

“Sure, Ackles.”

“Shaddap or you can suck yourself off next time.”

“I didn’t know there was gonna be a next time,” Jared says with a grin.

Jensen turns red but keeps his mouth shut. 

                *****

Jensen opens a new roll of Lifesavers and sits down at his desk.

He’s done this a million times before but never with someone he knows as well as Tom.

It’s a rush and it’s kind of creepy. He has a completely anonymous window into the life of someone he hates. The power he’s holding in his hands over Tom is enough to have him chewing on his lower lip, his fingers trembling a little with excitement.

He sucks on the candy in his mouth to help himself focus and waits for Tom to make a move.

The possibilities have Jensen’s head spinning. Tom could reveal his deepest, darkest secrets with a few keystrokes. He might surf some weird fetish site or spill the beans on someone else without even meaning to—

Or he could just go on Facebook.  

Jensen sighs. Figures. Internet stalking an Eagle Scout isn’t exactly the stuff of thrilling espionage but wait—

Tom’s checking his messages. Jensen can’t see more than the first few words on the other threads he has open (one from Lafferty calling him a jackass, something mushy from Genevieve), but he _can_ see the message from Sandy McCoy asking him to come over.

And Tom fucking Welling is sending her a “brt” reply with a “wink” face.

“Gotcha,” Jensen punches the air and crunches down on his mint.

Apparently Tom isn’t the type to shut his computer down as it’s still running ten minutes later without the mouse moving at all.

Jensen passes the time by uninstalling Tom’s printer software and moving his school papers from the “Documents” folder to random locations in the depths of his hard drive and switching the titles, then password protecting them for good measure.

And speaking of the depths of his hard drive…

There’s a photo file labeled only with numbers in a folder titled “Nov.” Jensen’s not trying to do more than annoy Tom, really, but his curiosity gets the better of him.

He clicks.

“Shit,” Jensen breathes, almost choking on the Lifesaver.

It’s a Skype screencap of a video chat with a topless Sandy. She’s hiding her face with her hand, but it’s still pretty obvious that it’s her. She’s got a dancer’s lean body and bigger tits than Jensen gave her credit for.

He can’t seem to look away from the picture. Not because he finds it hot or anything. It’s strange, looking at his classmate like this and trying to reconcile it with the good girl who sings solos in the school choir.

It’s even stranger when he remembers that Sandy’s probably the first girl Jared ever slept with. She knew him the same way she apparently knows Tom. Jensen can’t stop himself from thinking how weird it is that he’s sucked off the same guy as someone like Sandy McCoy.

Jensen’s stomach tightens and he closes out of the image, rearranging Tom’s desktop back to how he left it. 

*****

Jensen meets Jared in the library later that night. As usual, they get next to nothing done, but Jensen tells him about Tom’s messages.

“He sent her a _winky_ face?” Jared asks, grinning. “Tom, you sly bastard.”

“It’s the prelude to many a romance.”

“Yeah, it was in like, eighth grade,” Jared laughs.

He’s taking the whole thing oddly well. Jensen thought he’d get weird about Tom and Sandy hooking up since he acts like a child as soon as someone so much as brings her up in conversation. Instead, he seems heartened.

Jensen decides not to tell him about the picture.

“So, what, he’s cheating on Cortese?”

“Looks that way,” Jensen nods.

“Do we tell her?”

“No,” Jensen says quickly. “We don’t have to. I mean, you’re on the lacrosse team and student council—all you have to do is tell, like, two people and it’ll be all over the school by Monday.”

“What if she doesn’t believe it?” Jared asks.

Jensen shrugs. “Not really the point. And somehow, I think she will. You know they’ve broken up like ten times.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jared says. “He’s a real dick to her sometimes. She doesn’t deserve it.”

“He’s a dick to everyone.”

Jared nods. “So, have you thought about my lacrosse game at all? We could use more people to fill up the stands.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jensen says. Truthfully, he hasn’t really thought about it at all and he’s surprised to hear Jared bring it up again.

“And?”

“Uh, well I have a paper due, and—”

“When _don’t_ you have a paper due?”

“I know. It’s just—”

“C’mon, Ackles,” Jared grins. “It’s only a couple hours of your precious time.”

“Yeah, I mean, alright. Okay. I’ll go.”

“Cool, it starts at seven. And, uh,” Jared looks sheepish. “Can you bring the Calc homework?”

Jensen sighs. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thanks, man.”

 

                *****

 

                The lacrosse game turns out to not be the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

                It’s cold after the sun goes down and Jensen’s teeth chatter even though he’s huddled between Misha and Sophia. Poor Misha came straight from the computer lab in only a sweater and Jensen feels bad for guilting him into coming.

                Sophia’s scribbling notes frantically, jotting down jersey numbers and glancing at her watch every time someone scores, recording the times.

                It sort of sucks that Padalecki’s gonna be ineligible cause he’s actually really good. He’s all over the field and even makes a goal from pretty far away, flinging the ball in a smooth arc to the back of the net.

                Most of the time he’s feeding the ball to Tom and Steve Carlson, running from one end of the field to the other and doing a whole lot of yelling and checking with his stick. Every time he crashes into another boy, Jensen flinches before reminding himself that it’s part of the game. Plus, he’s one of the biggest guys out there and definitely one of the tallest, so it’s not like he’s gonna break or anything.

                Not that he cares, anyways.

“Jeez, eyes on the prize there, Jenny?” Sophia says.

                “Wha?” Jensen’s only just realizing how intently he’s been watching Jared.

                “Welling needs to pick up the slack,” Sophia mutters. “Like, his middies are pretty good. Padalecki and Cohen especially.”

                “Yeah,” Jensen says noncommittally.

                “Didn’t you sleep with Matt once or something?”

                Jensen coughs and pulls his coat around himself tighter. “No, I didn’t.”

                Misha glances at him curiously. “I thought you said…?”

                “I blew him, okay?” Jensen hisses. “He was really nice.”

                Sophia giggles and a middle-aged woman behind Jensen clears her throat.

                He blushes darker and Sophia snorts so hard it sounds like she might’ve knocked something out of place. She doesn’t even know that he’s actually sucked off both of Eldridge’s star midfielders but he’s not about to enlighten her.

                Jensen notices then that Genevieve Cortese is sitting a few rows in front of them, her hood up against the cold. He wonders if the news about Tom’s gotten around to her yet. She’s sitting with Katie Cassidy and a couple of other seniors that Jensen doesn’t know and Sandy McCoy is nowhere to be seen. She seems happy enough, but then she’s always been put-together.

                Eldridge wins by an easy margin and Jensen doesn’t stand up and cheer with everyone else, but there’s a warm satisfaction in his stomach that he’d never admit to feeling.

                Chad and James Lafferty are shoving each other around, though it’s mostly Chad who gets knocked off balance and nearly falls over while Lafferty barely budges.

                Jared tugs his navy blue jersey off over his head for some reason (Jensen pegs it to some weird sports ritual he’ll never understand) and slaps his teammates on their backs and asses, wearing one of those super tight black Under Armour shirts with long sleeves.

                “You guys go ahead. I gotta give Padalecki something,” Jensen says, swinging his backpack onto his shoulder.

                “Yeah, I bet you’re gonna _give him something_ ,” Sophia sniggers.

                Jensen flips her off and she ushers a shivering Misha away, cackling.

                Jensen jumps off the bleachers and makes his way to the sidelines, trying not to be too obvious about the fact that he’s waiting for one of the players. It strikes him that he’s standing next to a girl who’s waiting for her boyfriend, one of Eldridge’s defensive players.

                Jensen flushes and promptly steps away from the line.

                Genevieve’s there, too, though she doesn’t look happy. As soon as Tom makes to hug her, she pulls away, frowning. She’s talking in a voice too low for Jensen to hear, but he can guess what’s going on.

                Jared’s hanging back, watching the two of them with a furrowed brow. He seems satisfied when Gen storms off, leaving Tom behind. Then, Jared catches sight of Jensen and jogs over, all smiles and floppy hair. He looks so much like a giant puppy Jensen kind of wants to pet him before he gets a grip on himself.

“What’d you think?”

                Jensen clears his throat. “It was good. I mean, for a bunch of big sweaty dudes running around.”

                “Funny, that’s the part I thought you’d be into,” Jared grins.

                He unscrews the cap on his water bottle and pours some over his head. The water runs down his hair and drips onto his shoulders.

                “Yeah, well, the view wasn’t half bad,” Jensen admits, and then before he can stop himself adds, “But I guess it depends who you’re looking at.”

                “Were you cheering for the home team?”

                Jensen’s mouth goes dry and he licks his lips. “Mighta been.”

                Jared’s eyes glint, but he changes the subject. “Did you bring me anything?”

                “Besides the pleasure of my company?”

                Jared grimaces. “You know what I mean.”

                Jensen digs through his bag and extracts the next day’s Calc answers from his folder.

                Jared reaches for it but Jensen snatches the paper out of his reach. “Hey now, I think you can ask nicer than that.”

                Jared grins and tries to grab it, but Jensen steps back again.

                “C’mon Ackles,” Jared says. “What do you want me to do?”

                “You can start by begging and telling me how you’ve got the best tutor in the whole damn world—”

                Jared takes advantage of Jensen’s distraction and lunges forward, knocking Jensen off balance. In a second, Jared catches him by the wrist, snatching the paper out of his hand and laughing.

                They’re pressed up close, Jared’s hot breath on his throat and the stink of his sweat and sweet, spicy deodorant overwhelming. His fingers tighten on Jensen’s wrist and for the briefest of moments, Jensen lets himself go pliant under his touch, leans towards the warmth of Jared.

                Jared holds Jensen’s arm down, traps it between their bodies and _fuck_ Jensen’s knees are shaking.

                “I—”

                “What?” Jared asks, voice low, breath coming out in a fog in the chilly night air.

                It’s just the two of them under the glare of the lights.

                “Get off me,” Jensen mutters, breaking away from Jared roughly. He straightens his shirt and clears his throat, looking down at his shoes.

                “I gotta—I’m gonna go.”

                “Okay,” Jared says, his tone neutral. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

                “Yeah,” Jensen says, already turning on his heel to leave. He kicks himself that he’s letting Jared see him unnerved, but all he wants is to be as far away from the stadium lights as he can get.

 

                *****

                Jensen rubs his eyes behind his glasses and takes another sip of coffee.

                It’s past midnight and he really shouldn’t have left this essay for Euro so late, but Sophia had called to ask him about her Computer Science homework which had basically turned into an over-the-phone tutoring session before it devolved into a chance for both of them to bitch about anything and everything.

                Papers suck and he’s too tired for this.

                He casts a glance at his bed, the down comforter practically calling his name. He still has so much to do before he can fall on to it. His head is aching and he can’t believe he got himself into this mess.

                Jensen grabs his textbook off the shelf and starts scribbling down some answers for Padalecki to copy.

                He shouldn’t have gone to that fucking game. He knew he had a paper due and if he hadn’t wasted so much time on trying to help Jared pass, maybe he’d be asleep right now.

                And it _is_ nothing more than a waste of time. He knows Padalecki’s type (mostly because it’s the type he seems to gravitate towards). It’s not gonna go anywhere and even if it did, it wouldn’t be anywhere good. He’s thinking with his dick instead of his brain and when has thatever gotten him shit?

                Last time he’d let himself do something this stupid, he’d lost a year of his time chasing after the goddamn quarterback who only saw him as his friend, the hopeless virgin that needed someone to watch his back so he didn’t get his twinky little ass kicked, and that was before Chris decided _he_ wanted a piece of that same twinky little ass.

                Afterwards, he’d just split town like it was nothing and Jensen still can’t think back on it without feeling stupid. He should’ve seen Chris leaving a mile away in the same way he should back off Padalecki now before things get even more complicated.

                He folds his arms on top of his papers, laying his head down and closing his eyes against the desk light.

                Stupid. This is all so fucking stupid and he needs to get his life back on track. Starting tomorrow, he’s gonna put school first again. No more going out of his way for guys he barely knows.

                He sets his alarm to give himself an hour and a half to sleep, strips down to his boxers, and collapses on to his bed.

    He dreams of running laps on the lacrosse field with his backpack weighing him down. The lights are on him and everyone in the stands is yelling for him. He’s letting them all down—they’re holding up signs with his name on them and he can make out his mom’s face in the crowd. She’s trying to smile but he can tell he’s embarrassing her. The girl from the sidelines earlier is watching with a raised eyebrow and he knows if he wants to win, he needs to run a whole hell of a lot faster. 


	6. Six

_I want love to_  
 _walk right up and bite me,_  
 _Grab a hold of me and fight me, leave me dying on the ground._  
 _I want love to_  
 _split my mouth wide open,_  
 _And cover up my ears and never let me hear a sound_

 

                Jensen wakes up sweaty, a beam of sunlight streaming through the blinds.

                “ _Fuck!”_

He throws the blankets back, pulling on his wrinkled shirt and grabbing his uniform coat and tie from off the floor.

He checks his phone, furious. He set his alarm for 2 PM instead of AM.

“Fuckfuckfuck _fuck,”_ Jensen chants, shoving books into his bag.

He bolts out the door, slamming it behind him and sprinting towards his Geology lecture. Luckily, the science building isn’t too far from his dorm and he makes it only a couple of minutes late.

Dr. Shields casts him a reproving look from the front of the room but continues on about glaciers and Jensen hears someone hiss his name.

Jared gestures to the empty seat next to him. In fact, most of the rows in the back are empty.

Jensen hesitates, then makes his way to the middle of the row to sit next to him. He gets out his notebook and pen, flipping to a clean sheet of paper without looking at Padalecki.

Jared’s already smirking.

Jensen’s never sat so far back in a classroom. He’s always in the first five rows. Students who sit in the front make a better impression on their teachers.

But then he’s also never this late.

The room is set up like a college lecture hall with theatre style seating and he and Jared are totally alone.

Why he let Jared convince him to sit next to him is a whole other mystery since Jared’s not letting Jensen get a single word of the lecture. He keeps talking, telling stupid stories about his weekend and some kegger he went to with Chad off campus. Jensen’s already heard half of them anyways since Sophia was at the same party and told Jensen all about it last night.

Jensen shouldn’t be sitting next to Jared. He shouldn’t be listening to a damn word coming out of his mouth. He shouldn’t have been late, either, but he’d been up half the night overanalyzing anything and everything to do with Padalecki. Yet another reason he shouldn’t be here.

It takes all of two minutes for Jensen to tell him to shut up.

Jared laughs. “I dunno why you’re so uptight, Ackles. All I can think of is that you’re not getting any.”

                “I could _get_ plenty if I wanted to,” Jensen snaps back.

                “Oh, I don’t doubt it. I’m just sayin’…”

                “Well stop _just sayin’,_ ‘cause I don’t give a shit what you’ve got to _just say,_ alright?”

                Jared chuckles under his breath and listens to the lecture for a while.

                Jensen’s trying to keep up with Shields and to not think about how Jared doesn’t seem to mind that their thighs are touching. When Jensen moves his knee a fraction of an inch away from Jared’s, Padalecki’s leg chases him like it’s got a mind of its own. Their knees bump together and Jared’s totally oblivious.

                “Seriously, when’s the last time you got laid, Ackles?” Jared whispers.

                “None of your business.”

                “How long?”

                Jared’s leg is hot against his. There’s no malice in his voice, just curiosity.

                “Been a while,” Jensen murmurs.

                “Wanna tell me about it? This lecture sucks.”

                “No.” And actually the lecture isn’t that bad. When they get into soils, it’s all Jensen can do to stay awake. But glaciers are important, especially now with global warming looming.

                “C’mon Ackles, I’m bored,” Jared whines. His leg’s starting to bounce; the way Jensen noticed that first day in Morgan’s Calc class.

                “I’m trying to _pay attention,_ believe it or not,” Jensen hisses. The friction Jared’s leg is making between their khakis is really distracting.

                “Was it a guy or a chick?”

                “Shut _up._ ”

                “Was it Bush? Bet it was a dude. Was it that geeky kid in the sweaters you hang out with?”

                “Padalecki, I swear to God…”

                “Nah, you like jocks, don’t you?”

                Jensen’s leg twitches against Jared’s.

                “Oh, it was so _was_ a jock _._ Do I know him?”

                “No. He graduated a few years ago.”

                “Oooh, an older man,” Jared beams. “Try me, c’mon, I bet I knew him.”

                “Seriously, shut the fuck up.” Jensen whispers harshly. Shields is going to hear them soon and Jensen would rather not get thrown out of class.

                “Okay, fine,” Jared shoots back. His leg pulls away from Jensen’s, still bouncing a mile a minute.

                Jensen didn’t think he’d get off the hook that easily. Jared’s pouting, but quietly, so it’s fine with him.

                He jots down notes about the melting ice and within a few minutes he’s lost. Shields keeps using words he doesn’t remember ever hearing and the movement of Jared’s leg is more interesting than a bunch of rock jargon.

                “It was, um, Christian,” he murmurs, blushing and staring down at his two lines of notes. It’s more than Padalecki’s managed; all he’s got are a few scribbles and doodles of stick people.

                “Christian who?” Jared perks up again. His knee nudges Jensen’s.

                “Kane.”

                Jared stops moving for a second to stare.

                “ _You_ fucked Chris Kane?”

                “Just once,” Jensen mumbles.

                “When?”

                “It was, ah, before he graduated.”

                “So you were what, a freshman?”

                “Yeah.”

                Jared’s smile is back, dimples half-moons cut deep in his skin.

                “Wow, captain of the football team when you were a _freshman_. I’m impressed, Ackles. Didn’t think you were the type. Didn’t think _he_ was the type.”

                “I’m not. He’s not,” Jensen stammers. “We were friends.”

                 “And now?”

                Jensen doesn’t know what he’d call Chris anymore. He hasn’t seen him since he graduated, when he’d been talking about going to school for football, someday playing for the Steelers. He could’ve, he was good enough.

                Chris hadn’t written or called or anything since he’d left. It wasn’t like Jensen expected flowers and a _thanks for your virginity_ card, but the whole thing had been pretty abrupt. One minute they were hanging out listening to _Kid A_ and the next Jensen had been face down in Chris’ bed. They’d never talked about it which was mostly okay with him. There wasn’t much to say. His first time had been better than most of his friends’, and he figured he’d leave it at that. He’d wanted Chris for a long time and he’d never for a second imagined the feeling was mutual until that day. If Chris didn’t want to discuss it, neither did Jensen.

                “Now we’re not.”

                He’s not sure why he’s telling Jared; only that his leg feels good against Jensen’s, he has no idea what’s going on in class and Jared’s dimples are close enough to touch if he wanted to. Last time they were this close Jared was groaning and writhing, Jensen’s lips wrapped around his dick. Which is not helping him concentrate.

                “That’s too bad. You wanna hear about my last?” Jared asks.

                Not really, but Jared keeps going.

                “Last weekend, some girl from Hearst. Soccer player. Brunette. Tight little body. She wanted it bad.”

                Jensen’s never been the type to pat people on the back for their conquests but yeah maybe he’s getting hard anyways. It’s Jared’s voice, the way he _talks_ about fucking.

                “We were coming off the field. She’d been watching me the entire game. I could feel it. I was barely out of my uniform and we got behind the concession stand in the grass. Still got the stains on my knees. ’Cause she let me get her on her back right there, with all the parents hanging around waiting for their kids. She just dropped her shorts…”

                _Jared’s tanned back, sleek and wet from sweat under the stadium lights. Smooth flex and release of muscle in his back and hips as he thrusts into her, trying to suppress her moans because Jared’s fingers are working at her clit, his mouth devouring hers._

“And then the week before that, there was this chick at the boardwalk who blew me in the bathroom. She was so wet, Ackles, all I had to do was finger her after. She begged me to fuck her, but…”

                _Jared filling up a stall with a girl on her knees, moaning the way Jensen can’t stop thinking about. Maybe getting a grip in her hair and dragging her up and down his cock, jeans hanging low, his bare ass rubbing against the cement wall in the beachside bathroom._

                Jared smiles sweetly.

                _He’d pull her up, like he’d done to Jensen. Get her against the wall, holding her there while he slips his hand up her skirt, shoves her drenched panties out of the way._

                “And then of course there was our little rendezvous in the locker room…”

                “Who can tell what happens when sheets of ice are falling off the faces of glaciers? Does anyone remember the term?” Dr. Shields is looking around for volunteers.

Glaciers are important. Global warming is serious business. If only he could get past the images of Jared having sex. It’s got to be beautiful, that big, cut body of his in action.

                “…God, the mouth on you, Ackles. Wondered if you could live up to the hype, but you just _took it,_ didn’t you? Loved sucking my cock.”

                Jared’s voice goes a little breathy on the word ‘cock,’ he’s smiling so wide. Something about the combination of the filth he’s spewing and Jared’s dimples is doing very, _very_ uncomfortable things to Jensen and his hand twitches so hard he drops his pen.

                Jensen leans over in his seat, right hand outstretched to reach for it. But as he does, a warm pressure closes around his left wrist, the one still on the armrest of his chair. He has a split second realization that it’s Jared’s fingersbefore the warmth is replaced by something soft and unyielding.

                Jensen sits up abruptly, whirling to face Jared, drawing both arms back to his sides—except that he can’t because his left wrist is _cuffed_ to his fucking armrest.

                Seriously, what the hell is going on with his life lately? He’s hard in class over some brainless LAX player and now he’s somehow landed in the setup of awful porn for the second time in a month. All that’s missing is the shitty synth music.

                “Padalecki, if you want to keep both your balls, you’re gonna unlock this. _Now.”_

 _He planned this._ The thought hits Jensen like the time Josh had accidentally kicked a soccer ball straight into his stomach while he was helping him practice. _Padalecki actually set this up. Wanted me to get distracted, wanted me to sit next to him._

“Sorry, Jen. No can do. Seems I misplaced the key.”

                Jared grins, all dimples and innocence. Jensen is going to scream. He’s going to actually lose it in front of all these people. He’s shaking, cheeks flushed and teeth clenched; he’s never been so pissed in his life.

                “This isn’t fucking funny,” he hisses, pulling at the chain. It’s only then that he notices they’re lined with velvet because they’re the kind of horrible, kitschy sex toy Jared _would_ buy.

 And this—this is fucking humiliating.

                “I’m not going to act out your delinquent fantasy, I’m going to—”

                “What, Jen? Ask for help? Feel free.”

                Jensen’s ears turn red and Jared smiles wider.

                “Besides, it’s not what gets _me_ off.”

                “Mr. Padalecki? Did you need something repeated?” Mr. Shields is squinting in their direction along with half the class. Shields can’t actually see them since the bulb of the projector is blinding him. Jensen’s not sure if that’s good or bad.

                “No, sir. I was just getting Jensen up to speed since he missed last class.”

                Jensen didn’t think it was physically possible for him to turn any redder, but his body’s proving him wrong. Everyone must know that something’s up.

                The only mercy is that Shields never takes attendance and doesn’t know Jared’s lying.

                “Well, keep it down,” he says.

                “Yes, sir,” Jared beams and Shields turns his back on them again, returning to his lecture. Jensen wishes more than anything that he could call out to him and tell him what’s really going on in the back of his classroom.

                “Now, where were we?” Jared purrs in his ear.

                “The set-up of cliché porn, I think.”

                It’d be something like _Science Twinks,_ or maybe _Geology Class: Rock Hard Edition._ Jensen almost snorts out loud. If Jared really thinks he’s gonna go through with this…

                “Aw, c’mon. I don’t think this is so bad. Besides, you’re supposed to be the smart one. Not your fault you’re a bit lacking in the creativity department. I guess it’s a good thing I know what you like.”

                If Jensen had the willpower, he’d be telling Jared that he doesn’t know shit about what he likes. That, and the fact that Jared obviously does. The pressure on his wrist has him biting down on his lip.

“I saw your face when I held you down the other night on the field. You _love_ it,” Jared whispers. “You should go easy on yourself.”

                Jensen stares straight ahead, pretending he doesn’t notice the way Jared’s voice moves away from his ear. It’s coming from somewhere below Jensen’s chin now.

                “But you don’t do that, do you? Nothing but the best from Jensen Ackles. All work and no play.”

                Jared’s quieter, his voice only for Jensen. There’s no way he’s getting out of this.

                “You feel in control now, Ackles? You feel high and mighty?”

                Jensen squirms in his seat.

                “You think I don’t see how you look at me? How you’ve always looked at me?”

                Jared’s voice moves further south and a glance downward causes Jensen’s breath to catch in his chest.

                Padalecki’s not in his chair anymore. He’s on his knees on the floor, head over Jensen’s lap. Not touching, just hovering over him and _God bless_ that open mouth. 

                “Don’t worry, Jen. I’m not gonna touch you again.”

                Jensen bites back a groan.

                “I don’t have to.”

                And that’s the real bitch of it, because he doesn’t. Jensen’s hard in his khakis without even being touched, his dick straining at his zipper. Taking shallow breaths through his nose, Jensen closes his eyes, willing himself to calm down. He doesn’t want to give Padalecki the satisfaction.

                But it’s too late. Jared’s noticed.

                “Look at you. Getting a boner in class just from me being near you. Talking to you,” Jared’s tone borders on wonder. “I bet you’d love to rub one out right now, wouldn’t you? In front of everyone. Right here, with me watching you do it.”

                Jensen bites down on his lower lip, the cuff jangling as he readjusts in his seat. Jesus Christ, he’s going to die. This is it. His dick’s gone and gotten him killed.

                “On second thought, this _is_ a little bit for me, too. Not gonna lie, Ackles, I like being watched. And that freshman over there…”

                Jensen’s eyes dart to the right, but no one’s looking. There’s a girl four rows up, diagonal from them, with blonde hair in a ponytail who’d probably be able to see them if she turned around. Did he mean her? Or someone else? Or Is Jared fucking with him and nobody’s looking at all?

                “Do you think she knows how easy you are underneath all the bullshit? Think she wants to watch me suck you off? ‘Cause I’d do it.”

                “ _Jared,”_ Jensen hisses. “P-please.”

                “Please what?” Jared looks straight into his eyes, expression sober.

                “Just… don’t.”

                “I’ll back off, Ackles. All you gotta do is say so.” Jared retracts from his lap and watches him.

                Jensen opens his mouth to tell him just that but can’t get the words out. His thighs are trembling and he hates to admit that he wantsthis. Bad. And to make matters worse, he wants Jared to be the one to do it. He can’t explain it. He _doesn’t like_ Padalecki and being broken down by someone he considers a rival is…

                “Tell me what you want me to do, Jensen.”

                And that’s it; what finally slams him in the gut the hardest and has his cock leaking. The way Jared says his name; his first name.

                “Wanna fuck you,” Jensen mumbles, the words tripping out all at once. Saying it out loud makes it that much worse. “Want you to fuck _me.”_

                Jared chuckles, inching back in between Jensen’s legs. He’s out of breath, too.

                “Jumping the gun a little, don’t you think? I haven’t even bought you dinner. Not that I would.”

                Jared’s hands are braced against the armrests on either side of Jensen. Those fucking hands…

                “You really want it bad, don’t you?”

                “Mmhmm.” Jensen’s lips are sealed tight.

                “Move your free hand. Touch your thigh.”

                He could ignore it. He could tell Jared to fuck off and he’d listen, Jensen knows he would. Jared’s not interested in playing with him if he won’t play back.

Trembling, Jensen obeys.

                “Closer to your cock.”

                Jensen keeps the whimper in, but it’s a close thing. God, he regrets ever speaking to Padalecki. Almost as much as he’s regretting telling Jared not to touch him in the locker room which is obviously what this is about.

                No hard feelings. Right. None at all.

                “Look at me,” Jared whispers.

                Jensen does, meeting Jared’s odd eyes for a second time since this game’s started. He can’t decide what color they are. Hazel, if he had to pick one. But there’s gold, green and blue looking back at him and pinning him in place.

                “You love being told what to do, don’t you?”

                Jensen bites down on his lip harder and doesn’t respond.

                “Move your hand. Touch yourself.”

                Jensen gulps and palms himself through his pants and _shit_ it’s a stupid move. It’s so good,toogood with Jared’s eyes on him. He glances at Jared’s hands on either side of him, focusing on tracing the veins that stand out, trying not to think about how many people can see what he’s doing.

                “She’s watching us again,” Jared murmurs as though he’s reading Jensen’s mind.

                Jensen can’t bring himself to care.

                “You know I’m gonna fuck you, Jensen. Maybe not any time soon. But it’s gonna happen.”

                Jared’s voice goes rough with excitement, making the whispered filthy promises even better.

                “And you’re gonna beg me for it, just like you are now.”

                _Please. Please, Jesus fucking Christ…_

“More. Touch yourself more.”

                “I can’t— Jared, I can’t, please, _I can’t._ ”

Jared reaches up and unbuckles his belt for him, not looking away for a second.

                “Yes, you can. Do it.”

Jensen shudders, his body wracked with that out-of-control _want_ that’s gonna kill him if he doesn’t get it out. It’s gonna kill him if he does. Either way it’s too much.

Jared, meanwhile, rests his chin on Jensen’s thigh.

“Jensen.”

As soon as Jared lifts his head from his lap, Jensen’s free hand is inside his pants then his boxers, fisting awkwardly around his cock. He can’t set up a rhythm; he’s too embarrassed, too needy and _fuck_ he has to get this over with fast before _—_

                “Hand,” he grunts. If it was possible for him to blush more, it’d happen right about now.

                “Hmmm?”

                “Your hand. M-mouth. Please…” Jensen gasps.

                Perplexed, Jared raises his right hand to Jensen’s lips. His confusion turns to heat a second later when Jensen takes three of Jared’s thick fingers into his mouth, sucking the taste and _so glad_ he’s being filled.

                Jared’s staring at him in awe. He starts moving his fingers in and out, dragging along Jensen’s tongue and _Yes—_

“That’s it,” Jared murmurs.

                There’s a moment where Jensen’s poised on the edge, trying to keep his head and he moves his hand away, but it’s too late. Jared’s fingers skim over the roof of his mouth and Jensen’s coming in his pants. Just like that, like he isn’t a totally in-control, junior in high school. Like he’s back in middle school, popping wood for the first time because someone accidentally brushed his leg.

                His mind whites out and he latches down on Jared’s hand hard, desperately trying not to make a sound. He’s going to fucking explode if he doesn’t, he can’t hold it all in and the muscles in his legs are reduced to absolute Jell-O.

                Jared’s murmuring dirt and praises exactly the same as he did in the locker room, like his dick and his mouth are connected and he can’t get off without spewing all kinds of ridiculous bullshit that, for some reason, makes Jensen lose his mind.

                Jensen pulls off Jared’s fingers and buries his face in the crook of his elbow as he tries to steady his breathing. With a metallic _click_ his left wrist is free from the cuff.

                Jared zips his pants for him and buckles his belt.

It weirds him out way more than the rest did, and when the bell rings two minutes later Jensen’s the first one out the door, flushed and sticky, feeling Jared’s eyes on him the whole way.

*****

 

Jensen doesn’t want it to be a big deal. Last time he made it a big deal, things only got worse between them.

                It’s just, Jared made him come in his pants. In public. With his fingers in Jensen’s mouth. There’s not really a graceful way to handle that as far as he knows.

                Sophia bursts into his room the second he’s out of the shower and he nearly drops his towel in shock.

                “Christ, what’s wrong with knocking?”

                “Relax, Jenny. Nothing I haven’t seen.”

                Jensen grumbles about his lost privacy and their friendship as he pulls on sweats and a t-shirt.

                “Sweatpants?” Sophia wrinkles her nose. “What’s wrong?”

                “I, uh…”

                She scrutinizes him for a moment. “It’s Padalecki, isn’t it? Bitten off more than you can chew?”

                “I can chew plenty,” Jensen protests. “It’s just, uh, things have gotten…”

                “Complicated?”

                “I guess.”

                “How complicated we talkin’?”

                “Like… handcuffs and blowjobs complicated.”

                Sophia stares at him— jaw hanging open _gapes_ at him.

                “Jensen _Ross_ Ackles, you did _not—”_

Jensen covers his eyes with a hand and grimaces. “I did. I really did. I overdid.”

                Sophia starts giggling. “Ohhhh my God.”

                “Leave it, okay? It was— we didn’t—”

                “Is he hung? Even though he’s an asshole I always wondered, ‘cause, like, if he’s _proportional…_ ”

                Jensen smacks his knee on his bed frame and swears. This is so not a conversation he needs to be having when he’s trying to make sense of the mess his life’s become.

                “C’mon Jenny, spill.”

                “I—yeah, I guess he’s, I dunno.”

                Sophia cackles and flops onto his bed. “I _knew_ it!”

                “You were the one who told me not to get involved!” Jensen snarls.

                Christ, this is embarrassing. He’s suddenly remembering why he hadn’t planned on telling Sophia anything.

                “Not my fault you chose to ignore my advice. I’m only here to enjoy the consequences of your mistakes,” Sophia grins.

                “Some friend you are.”

                “Please,” Sophia rolls her eyes. “Don’t be overdramatic. Did you fuck him yet?”

                “No.” Jensen turns away to hide the fact that he’s blushing more than ever. What the hell’s wrong with him? He’s never had a problem talking about sex before. Not that they’ve even _had_ sex.

                “So what’s the deal? What’s the plan?”

                “There is no plan. It started off with a bet. It was… it was stupid.”

                “Can’t have been that stupid if you came back for more,” Sophia points out. She’s paging through the _National Geographic_ on Jensen’s desk, pausing on images from a festival in Greece.

                “I didn’t mean to. It sorta… happened, I guess.”

                She looks up from the magazine. “Oooh, I love when it ‘happens.’ Those are the best.”

                “He… he _handcuffed_ me in class, Soph.”

                She bursts out laughing again, actually holding her stomach and rolling around on his bed. “You’ve gotta be fucking with me. This is _too_ fucking good.”

                Jensen runs a hand through his damp hair and sighs. And here he thought Sophia would be able to help him.

                “So, Ackles has finally met his match,” Sophia snorts. “Seriously, how come your sex life got all smokin’ hot when mine’s migrated south for the winter?”

                “Please. He’s not my _match._ He’s just hot, okay? And if he thinks I’m hot, too, why shouldn’t we… do…”

                Whatever it is they’re doing.

                “By all means,” Sophia says, putting her hands up in the air. “Do! Do all you want. Don’t let me stop you.”

                “But you think it’s a bad idea?”

                “Jensen, it’s a terrible idea. That’s what makes it hot.”

                Stupidly, overwhelmingly hot. The kind of hot that makes him want to go right back to Jared’s dorm tonight, consequences and dignity be damned.

                “Soph, he knew about—” Jensen gestures vaguely to his wrists. “He knew that I’d, uh, like that.”

                “Really?” she sniggers. “Bet you loved it.”

                “I guess. It was just weird, y’know? Like he knew exactly what I wanted, even when I was telling him I didn’t. And he kept _talking…_ ”

                Sophia sighs wistfully. “He did this to you in class?”

                “Yeah, in the back of Shields’ lecture. There were people who could see and everything.”

                “Ah, so it’s blue balls that’s got you down?”

                “Er, no. Actually. I may or may not have… uh, blown my load. In class.”

                “You actually…?” Sophia whistles. “I dunno, Jen. I don’t think I’d give that up if I were you.”

                Sophia knows his hang-ups and kinks better than any guy he’s messed around with. She’s probably the only person who knows just how little Jensen hooks up at all, and how, during the school year, he’s practically a monk. Even at the odd party he goes to, he hardly ever lets anyone get him off.

                “But it’s stupid, right? I shouldn’t do it again?”

                She cocks her head to the side and considers the question. “I mean, the kid’s definitely bad news. But he did that for you, Jen, and that’s not something you do for someone you’re not into.”

                “But it’s a control thing, don’t you think?”

                “Yeah, partly. But getting someone off like that… It takes planning. Forethought. Like he wanted to get you off in a way he thought you’d like.”

                A glow of pleasure hums in Jensen’s gut. Jared _thought_ about him, had wanted to make him feel good. Sure it’d been kinda embarrassing, but that made it better. Maybe Jensen needs that once in a while—a chance to lose his head.

                “Plus, I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask about this stuff, Jenny. I don’t always make the best decisions.”

                “Yeah, but you do okay.”

                “Thanks,” She smirks. “I guess I do. After all, I sat next to you at orientation, didn’t I?”

                “That you did,” Jensen grins back.

                He sits next to Sophia on the bed, reading the _National Geographic_ over her shoulder. Thirty minutes later, they’re curled up underneath the blankets, Jensen’s nostrils full of Gaultier’s _Fragile,_ Sophia’s perfume of choice since freshman year.

                “Hey Jen?”

                “Hmmm?” He rolls over to face her.

                “Be careful, okay?”

                The scent reminds him of getting stupidly drunk, holding Sophia’s hair back, ditching out of class early to smoke cigarettes on The Circle.

It smells like them.

“Okay.”

  
                *****

Jensen wakes up in darkness, disoriented. It takes him a few minutes to figure out it’s nighttime instead of early morning. He must’ve dozed off with Sophia. She’s gone, her scent lingering on Jensen’s pillow.

He’s glad to have enough space to turn over, though he wishes she would’ve stayed the night. It felt good to not worry for an hour or so.

He fluffs his pillow and turns over to try and fall back asleep. He gives it up after twenty minutes of kicking his blankets around.

He’s thinking about getting up and going out to get a late dinner when his phone rings. He never labeled the phone number, didn’t have to after the first few texts anyways. He knows those digits practically by heart at this point.

Jensen considers ignoring Jared’s call for a few seconds, his pulse hammering. He has no idea what to say to Padalecki; hasn’t even begun to process what happened between them.

“Hello?”

Jared doesn’t waste any time with pleasantries.

“What’re you doing right now?”

“Trying to sleep,” Jensen croaks. His skin feels uncomfortably tight at the thought of how the same voice had been telling him to touch himself mere hours ago.

“Did I tire you out in class?” Jensen can hear the grin.

He contemplates hanging up on Padalecki but figures that’d make him a spoilsport or the world’s biggest bitch.

“Maybe,” is all he offers.

“Look Jensen,” Jared begins, already more serious than Jensen’s ever heard him. Not to mention, the only time Jared’s called him by his first name was when he was trying to get him off.

“Geology today was… I got carried away. I mean, I don’t… I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to. If it ever gets to be too much, all you’ve gotta do is say so. Just be straight with me.”

Jared said ‘if it ever gets to be too much,’ as though they’d do it again. Huh.

“Alright,” Jensen nods, forgetting that Jared can’t see it. “It’s… uh, not too much.”

“It’s not?”

Jensen hesitates. If it’s sex Padalecki’s after, well, they’ve already started down that path. He can work with that because despite everything else, he does want Jared. If there’s a way he can have him on level ground…

“No,” Jensen says. Deep down, he doesn’t want this fucked up thing between them to end. He can’t let it die when he doesn’t know what else it could become. They’ve just gotten started and they’ve each gotten something they wanted.

In the heavy silence afterwards Jensen notices the way Jared’s breathing.

“Are you… are you jerking off?”

“Might be,” Jared grunts. “Left me kinda high and dry in Geology.”

Jensen didn’t think of that. He’d been so focused on getting the hell out of his sticky khakis and class he’d forgotten that Jared was probably hard too.

It’d gross him out if it was someone else. Having had the guy’s dick in his mouth kinda helps with any embarrassment he might be feeling, though.

 “Where’s your roommate?”

“Gone,” Jared murmurs. “God, been thinking about you all day, Ackles.”

Jensen shivers, his back arching slightly off the mattress. No need to pretend here, no need to act like Jared’s voice doesn’t make him want to do the stupidest, craziest things he can think of. Hence why he hasn’t hung up yet. 

 “Yeah?” Jensen whispers. He manages not to stammer even though he’s getting hard. “What about me?”

“Your mouth. The way you just…” Jared’s panting and Jensen’s just about throbbing at the thought of him jacking off over what they did in class. “Just sucked my fingers. Loved having me in your mouth again. Said _please._ ”

“Yeah,” Jensen says again, dumb and hazy. He’s never done anything like this, which he guesses could _qualify_ as phone sex if he’s being technical.

“What were you thinking?”

“Needed to have my mouth full. Wanted to taste,” Jensen mutters, flushing. His hand moves to the waistband of his sweatpants and slips beneath it. “Wanted you.”

 “God, Ackles,” Jared groans into the phone, the sound reverberating down Jensen’s spine. “Wanted to fuck you so bad. Would’ve, if I could’ve gotten away with it.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” Jared purrs. “In front of all those people.”

Jensen scrunches his eyes shut and reaches for the lotion on his desk.

“You touching yourself?” Jared asks.

“Yeah,” Jensen replies, biting down on a moan.

They listen to each other’s breathing for a moment.

“Think we gave that freshman a good show?” Jared asks.

Jensen’s breath stutters on a laugh. “I’d… say so.”

“Think she saw your cock?”

“Maybe.” Jensen closes his eyes, letting Jared’s voice wash over him in the dark.

“Like it when you lose control like that,” Jared murmurs. “Love watching you let go; touching yourself. Think she saw me in your lap?”

“Yeah,” Jensen pants. He’s aching, sweating all over already.

“I bet she’s thinking about us now. Thinking about watching me go down on you, sucking your dick. Bet she’s all wet over you.”

“Is this the part where you tell me I’ve got a nice dick?” Jensen giggles. He’s watched way too much porn over the past few weeks, which may or may not have started after their meet-up in the locker room.

“You do,” Jared says. He’s not the slightest bit embarrassed, while Jensen can’t say a damned thing in this conversation without his cheeks lighting on fire with a mixture of humiliation and arousal. “Would love to jack you off, nice and slow.”

Jensen chokes back a gasp and slows his own pace to synch his strokes up with Jared’s words.

“Don’t hold back. Wanna hear you.”

“Fuck, Padalecki, I can’t—”

“Can’t what, baby?”

Jensen snorts a laugh at the endearment. He could suck Jared off a hundred times and never get used to him trying to be _nice_ about it.

“Need to— Jesus I can’t—” Jensen makes a fist with his left hand and bites down on it, his hips thrusting up off the bed. He’s so close, needs to relieve some of the pressure, wishes he had Jared in his bed so he could bite and scratch and—

He whimpers around the fist in his mouth with Jared’s harsh breathing egging him on.

“God wanna come over there so bad. Wanna watch you, feel you.” Jared’s mumbling a stream of nonsense that Jensen’s losing the ability to follow. Jared’s voice wavers and he’s gasping for breath, all of it right in Jensen’s ear, careening over the edge just for him to hear.

Jensen’s teeth sink deeper into the flesh of his hand, his calves straining, back arching and he comes on his stomach and sheets.

The line’s quiet save for their labored breathing.

“You come for me, Ackles?”

“Y-yeah. Fuck, yeah,” Jensen’s trembling all over, body sleek with sweat. The traces of Sophia’s perfume have long since been overwhelmed by the tang of salt and sex.

“Good boy. See you tomorrow.”

Jared hangs up, leaving Jensen with a dial tone and a hand covered in his own spunk for the second time that day.

His life is really getting weird.


	7. Seven

_When I said what I said I didn't mean anything_  
 _We belong in a movie_  
 _Try to hold it together 'til our friends are gone_  
 _We should swim in a fountain_  
 _Do not want to disappoint anyone_

“Ackles!”

Jensen’s walking to an open table in the dining hall when Jared’s shout gets his attention. Padalecki’s surrounded by a whole group of his teammates and a few girls, Genevieve Cortese and Danneel Harris among them.

Jared gestures to the empty chair across from him.

Jensen hesitates. He usually eats lunch with Sophia, but maybe he could get her a chair too. Not to mention he never would’ve thought in a billion years he’d be invited to the _cool kids’ table._ Not that he cares, really. But Jared’s there and Jensen guesses this means they’re friends or something.

He sits down with his tray of tofu stir-fry between Chad and Danneel.

“Thanks a lot,” Chad gripes.

“What? You got a problem with Ackles?” Jared grins like he dares Chad to say something. Jensen wonders how much Chad knows about what his best friend’s been doing with his free time lately.

“Chad’s just pissed ‘cause he can’t see down my shirt from over there,” Danneel says drily.

“I would _never—”_

Genevieve throws a fry at Chad. “Right. Because you totally didn’t look up my skirt when you went under the table five minutes ago to ‘pick up your pencil’.”

Chad’s mouth hangs open. “I am _shocked_ by these accusations. I might have to take my fine ass to a different table where they appreciate my contributions of wit and good-looks.”

“No one’s stopping you,” Danneel says.

Chad shoots a look at James, who hasn’t said anything. His eyes are glued to the TV showing ESPN.

“Well, I would. But I’d hate to deprive you of my presence.”

                Jensen waves to a harassed looking Sophia from across the cafeteria when she enters. She does a double take when she sees where Jensen’s sitting, or rather with whom he’s sitting, and approaches cautiously.

“Good thing Sandy’s not here today,” Danneel murmurs.

“Yeah, good thing,” Jared agrees with a stony expression.

It’s common knowledge that Jared and Sandy enjoy each other’s company about as much as bathing in acid. Sophia and Sandy’s dynamic is pretty much the same. Sophia’s not the easiest chick to get along with, especially if you’re into the whole “nice girl” thing like Sandy McCoy is. It doesn’t help that Sophia’s always intimidated other girls for one reason or another. Then there’s the whole bit about Sandy being “the other woman” in Genevieve’s relationship with Tom.

“How come?” Chad asks around his mouthful of pizza.

“Are you really that dumb?” Danneel asks, chucking another French fry his way.

Chad dodges and retaliates by flicking a pepperoni at her.

“Gross,” Danneel scowls. She shoots a glance at Genevieve, who’s staring down at her plate. “No one here wants to talk about Sandy.”

“You’re right,” Jared nods. “So let’s not.”

He’s looking at Genevieve, too.

Genevieve frowns and says, “She and Sophia don’t really get along anyways.”

She doesn’t say anything about Tom.

 “Hey y’all,” Sophia says, pulling a chair up between Jensen and Danneel.

“Hey,” Danneel replies. “Nice job on the soccer coverage for last week’s game.”

“Thanks,” Sophia beams. “You guys are doing really great.”

“You should try out next season, we need more people.”

Jensen snorts, taking a swig from his water bottle. “Yeah, if you want the other team to be hospitalized.”

Sophia glowers at him, but turns back to Danneel. “Thanks, but I think I’d rather write about the team than play on it.”

“I’d try out if I wasn’t graduating,” Genevieve chimes in. “Not that I’m good, or anything. Besides, Danneel, you’d kick my ass.”

“No way, you’d hold your own out there,” Danneel says. “Did she tell you guys about the major ball busting she gave Tom?”

“No, she didn’t,” Jared says, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“What for?” Jensen asks, licking his lips.

Genevieve flushes and picks at her salad. “It wasn’t like that. I just… told him I was tired of the back and forth.”

“She, like, served him his own head on a plate. I mean, it’s not like Gen doesn’t have _options_ and Tom’s such a jackass—”

“Danny,” Genevieve cuts in. “I’m sure no one wants to hear my breakup stories while they’re eating.”

“I do,” Chad says.

Genevieve rolls her eyes and changes the subject, smiling over at Jared.

“Jared, do you wanna work on that proposal for the athletic department today?”

“Today? Uh, yeah, I mean I—I can do that,” Jared says, smiling back tentatively.

Jared’s got a lot of friends and he’s vice president of student council and therefore expected to spend a lot of time with Genevieve and the others, but it doesn’t stop Jensen from narrowing his eyes at him.

Jared seems to sense Jensen’s gaze and he clears his throat.

“Yeah, so. We’ll do that. Today.”

“Great,” Genevieve says.

Jensen nearly jumps out of his seat when something bumps his calf and it takes a few seconds for him to realize whatever it is is moving up and down his leg purposefully, almost playfully.

He shoots a glance at Jared. His eyes are fixed on the TV. Jensen scowls, not fooled for a second and stomps on Jared’s foot.

Jared yelps and knocks the table with his knee, sending his silverware flying across the floor and knocking Danneel’s mineral water into Chad’s lap.

“Damn it Padalecki! If you can’t keep your giant freak legs under control I swear to God I’m gonna cut them off while you’re asleep,” Chad swears and uses a stack of about fifty napkins to soak the mess up.

Genevieve goes to get more napkins for him and Jensen suppresses a flicker of annoyance.

Jared, meanwhile, glares at Jensen, whose attention is now firmly on the TV and he may or may not be smirking and enjoying Jared’s discomfort way too much.   
  


                *****

                Jensen approaches Jared in Calc the next day, having just scored another perfect quiz grade and feeling pretty damn good that at least one of his classes is still easy. 

                “So how’d you do?”

                Jared doesn’t look at him. “I, uh…”

                “Did you seriously fail again? After all the tutoring?”

                “I didn’t fail, I got another 70,” Jared says, defensively. “I mean, it’s better than before.”

                “Padalecki, straight 70’s aren’t gonna cut it if you wanna keep playing lacrosse.”

                “I’m sorry, I meant to spend more time on it, I just—” Jared sighs.

                “Don’t apologize to me, it’s _your_ grade,” Jensen says. “I thought you said you were doing better.”

                “I was, I just got distracted with the athletic proposals and all the stuff for Dinwiddie and—”

                Just then, Dr. Morgan raises his voice over the racket of students stuffing their papers into their bags.

“Jensen, can I talk to you after class?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jensen says, moving to get out of the way of the herd of students making for the door as the bell rings.

“So you coming to my practice today?” Jared asks in a low voice.

“Wha?”

“My last practice,” Jared says. “Before I’m ineligible?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess,” Jensen blinks. “When is that again?”

Jared rolls his eyes and starts towards the door. “I’ll see you at five.”

“Yeah, see ya,” Jensen says to Jared’s back.

Morgan waits until the room is empty to start talking. Jensen’s clicking his pen nervously, kicking himself every time he does it but still unable to stop.

“How’re your classes going?” Morgan asks as he sits behind his desk, gesturing for Jensen to take the chair on the other side of it.

“Uh, fine,” Jensen says. “Just a lot of work. Not that I can’t do it,” he says. “Just… you know.”

“I’ve heard that about this school,” Morgan says with a wry smile. “Something about it being a little bit tough.”

Jensen smiles nervously.

“The reason I had you hang back is that I’ve just got a quick question for you,” Morgan explains, his eyes flicking back to this computer screen. “As long as you don’t mind watching me struggle with online grading for a minute.”

“I could probably help you with that. I’m good with computers.”

 “That’s exactly why I wanted to talk to you. What would you say to doing some teacher aid work for me next semester?”

Jensen flashes back on the scene from his dream, leaning over at the blackboard with Dr. Morgan behind him and his voice in Jensen’s ear.

He flushes.

“Uh, yeah. That’d be awesome, if you want me. To work for you, I mean,” he corrects hastily.

Morgan gives him a half-smile that just about has Jensen hard in his khakis.

“You can start by coming over here and helping me with this damn thing,” he says.

Jensen swallows and comes around to Morgan’s side of the desk.

 Morgan wasn’t lying about the being terrible with computers thing. He types slow, practically one character every three seconds. Jensen can’t help but see his password to the school’s mainframe system.

“What do I click now?”

“That one,” Jensen says, gesturing at the screen.

“Ah, okay.”

He brings up the grading software and Jensen’s eyes sweep over it before Morgan can open a new window.

“I wanted to post an online assignment using this program, but I don’t really understand it. Could you show me at least how to get started?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jensen leans in closer, trying not to inhale too much of Morgan’s smooth aftershave.

He opens the “Assignments” tab. The next three tests for Calc are there already.

                “You just have to click here, sir…”

                *****

                “I don’t know why the hell he invited me if he’s just gonna trip over himself every five seconds staring at Cortese,” Jensen mutters to Sophia.

                “Ooh, Jenny, I didn’t know you were the jealous type.”

                “Shut up,” Jensen gripes while Sophia laughs.

Genevieve and her friend Katie Cassidy are sitting a few rows in front of them with their heads together. Katie says something to Genevieve that makes her shove Katie playfully, laughing and shaking her head.

                Jared chooses that moment to look up at the stands. He waves in their direction, grinning and Katie giggles harder, elbowing Genevieve in the ribs.

                Jensen would like to elbow both of them in the face, but he turns his attention back to Misha’s screen.

“How’s that pipeline going?”

Misha brought his laptop out to the bleachers, and every time Jensen feels Jared looking up at him instead of Genevieve, he keeps his eyes on the screen.

                “Its construction is progressing faster than I’d like,” Misha says. “But we have time to stall it.”

                “‘We’ nothing, this one’s on you, man.”

                “I keep forgetting that you actually think working for the U.S. government is some kind of achievement,” Misha mutters.

                “Hey,” says a voice from above them, a shadow falling over Jensen, Misha, and Sohpia.

                Danneel Harris sits next to Sophia, making herself right at home.

                Jensen’s never really spoken to her before now. He knows she’s a jock, that she’s popular and a bit of a bitch but so far, he’s kinda liking it.

                 She glances over at Misha’s laptop, brow furrowed with curiosity. She doesn’t make any dismissive comments and she rises a couple of notches in Jensen’s book.

                “What’s all that?” she asks.

                “Misha and his whacko, treehugger friends are just planning a little friendly terrorism against the government, you know, no big,” Jensen says wryly.

                Tom’s looking over at them from the field, now, too, and Jensen is extra careful in keeping his eyes away from Jared.

                “Can’t you guys get caught doing that?” Danneel says, taken aback.

                “No,” says Misha, as though the concept of getting caught is a completely new subject for him. 

                “Well, yeah,” Jensen says. “But that’s not always a bad thing. Lots of people get jobs in the government from it.”

                “Why?” Danneel asks, surprised.

                “It’s like a ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’ sort of deal. They need the best hackers they can get, and even so, they’re not likely to catch _all_ of them. Like Mish, here.”

                “What about you?”

                “It works for me, ‘cause I’d _love_ a cushy government job and I’m not as good as he is, so I’m more likely to trip their systems,” Jensen says.

“You really want someone leaning over your shoulder and watching everything you do?” Misha asks, his fingers flying over the keys.

                Jensen’s never really thought about it like that. “If I’m employedby them, what’re they gonna do? They won’t even know how to stop me.”

                “If you’re good enough you won’t have to even pretend to be their stooge,” Misha counters.

                Misha’s a cool guy and all, but sometimes he gets a little too conspiracy theory for Jensen. The only way the government would ever catch Misha would be if he wanted them to. Their hackers are good, but they’ve got a lot of red tape Misha never has to worry about. There’s no protocol when you’re working solo.

                “Hey, Ackles!”

                Jensen’s shoulders go stiff and he freezes.

                “Is he seriously calling you over right now?” Sophia snorts.

                Jensen shushes her and acts as though he’s still deep in conversation with Misha.

                “So, uh, Mish, what were you saying about the firewall?”

                Misha blinks. “You know how to bypass it. An idiot could do that.”

                “Yeah, but, I’m out of practice and—”

                _“Ackles!”_

Jensen allows his gaze to flick away from Misha for a fraction of a second. Half of Jared’s teammates are looking at him. Jared’s frowning, his shoulders drawn tight as he shoves his water bottle into his bag.

                Jensen’s ears are burning with embarrassment but he’s not going to trot over to Jared like a dog on command. Not after Jared invited him here for no reason.

                “Well, I gotta get going,” Jensen says hastily, wrapping his headphones around his iPod and jumping down off the bleachers. “See ya.”

                He makes it about twenty yards before Jared starts calling his name again. He quickens his pace but he hears Jared yell, “Fucking _stop,_ okay?”

                Jensen does, mostly because he knows he doesn’t have a snowball’s chance of outrunning Jared Padalecki and sprinting all the way back to his dorm would be sort of humiliating.

                He whirls around with his shoulders squared.

                “ _What?”_ He says.

                “I thought we were gonna like, hang out or something,” Jared pants, head tilted to the side. He’s really sweaty and Jensen can’t help thinking it’s shame he won’t be able to wear the school’s lacrosse uniform much longer. It suits him.

“That depends. You gonna tell me what the fuck that was?” Jensen hisses.

“What?”

“You acted like you didn’t even fucking _know_ me.”

Jared blinks.

“ _I_ acted like I didn’t know _you?_ You do remember when you blatantly ignored me trying to call you over, right?”

“Only cause you were so busy drooling over Cortese—”

“Gimme a break, Jensen.”

“Whatever,” Jensen spits. “I don’t know why I’m even wasting my time. Obviously I’m not cool enough to hang out with you and your little buddies.”

                “Why are you acting like this?” Jared asks with his hands outstretched. “I _asked_ you to come to this. I wanted you here.”

                Oh, yeah. There’s that. Jensen had sort of forgotten about that detail in the face of his petty little bitchfit over Genevieve. 

“Because I don’t—I don’t know how to do this,” Jensen exhales. “I’m not used to playing cheerleader.”

“Well this isn’t the right way, I can fucking tell you,” Jared says. He lowers his arms, his forehead creased in a disarming display of weariness. “And you’re not my _cheerleader,_ asshole.”

Jensen reaches out and catches Jared’s hand just as he’s about to walk away.

“Wait.”

“Wait?” Jared repeats.

“I’m… I—don’t walk away.”

Jared hesitates. He smirks. “Here I was thinking you might actually apologize.”

“Do you want me to?”

“I probably wouldn’t believe you if you did.”

“Okay, so I won’t.”

Jared just looks at him. “You should leave.”

“Why?” Jensen asks, bewildered. He’d been sure that Jared would laugh the whole thing off.

“’Cause I kinda hate you right now and it’s getting me hot,” Jared sighs, biting the inside of his cheek.

Jensen smiles.

They end up under the bleachers and Jensen makes up for being an asshole the best way he knows how— with his hand down the front of Jared’s lacrosse shorts.

Jared comes, laughing with his eyes screwed shut.

“You’re… a fucking psychopath,” he pants, grinning and opening one eye to look at Jensen.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Jared sits up, his face flushed and his sweaty hair disheveled. The smell of his body washes over Jensen in a wave—pungent sweat and come and soap.

Before he knows it, Jared’s pressing him down flat in the grass.

“What’re you—?” Jensen squirms.

“Returning the favor,” Jared grunts. “If you try to back out this time I swear to God—”

But Jensen doesn’t get a chance to, because a second later his ass is bare on the grass and Jared’s mouth is on his dick and God _damn._

“S-slow down,” Jensen whines, his voice cracking when Jared’s tongue swipes the underside of his cock. “Jesus, c’mon, Jay—”

He tries to shove Jared back by the shoulders and when that doesn’t work, he grabs a handful of Jared’s hair to pull him back, but that’s when he starts to feel Jared swallowing him down, muscling past his gag reflex and getting Jensen disgustingly-yet-awesomely dripping wet with saliva.

“God, fuck, Jared—”

Jared opens his eyes for a moment just to shoot him an annoyed glance before he gets his fist wrapped around the base of Jensen’s dick.

Jensen accidentally tugs harder on Jared’s hair and Jared’s jaw slackens for a second and he _groans_ like Jensen’s doing him some big favor. Intrigued, Jensen keeps his fingers buried in Jared’s hair and presses his head down between his thighs.

It occurs to Jensen that this is probably the first time Jared’s ever done this, but hell if he can tell.  Jared’s going at it with everything he’s got, cheeks hollowed and taking him as deep as he can and Jensen can only watch, helpless, pulling Jared’s hair to guide him up and down his cock.

Jensen isn’t packing the heat Jared is which is probably better for a first-timer. Jared doesn’t seem to care one way or the other. He gags a little when he tries to swallow him down more but it only makes him determined.

Jensen lets go of Jared’s hair and gathers fistfuls of grass under him, trying to squirm away from Jared’s mouth because there is absolutely no way he can handle this.

Jared uses his left arm to pin Jensen in place, and suddenly he’s not sucking him off anymore but straddling him. He’s not hard but he’s grinding up against Jensen anyways, and Jensen’s cock is caught between their stomachs and it’s a special mix of heaven and pure fucking torture.

“C’mon, Ackles,” Jared breathes, his eyes glimmering with heat.

Jensen’s own eyes refuse to stay open for more than two seconds more and he’s biting down on his lower lip—hard—hard enough to hurt.

“Here,” Jared murmurs, and a second later his fingertips brush the dry skin of Jensen’s lips. Grateful, Jensen opens up and lets his tongue work Jared’s fingers while Jared whispers to him.

“You’re so close, come on, just let it, just fucking come—”

Jensen’s back is arching off the ground, his sweating body pasted to Jared’s wherever their skin touches, the late autumn heat enveloping them.

His entire body tenses and he’s trying to hold it in but that’s it—

He comes on Jared’s lacrosse shorts. And not just a little, either. He rubs up against Jared all the way through it, trying desperately to get closer and somehow pull away at the same time.

“Aw, Ackles,” Jared groans.

“S-sorry.”

“Christ, that’s like…” Jared glances down at the mess. “Fuck, if I’d known you were gonna spunk this much maybe I wouldn’t have tried so hard.”

Jensen’s not too tired to be embarrassed, but he can’t think of any witty retorts so he just lies back down with his chest heaving. He pulls his boxers and pants back up and doesn’t move, doesn’t think he’ll be able to for at least an hour.

In his defense, before Jared it’d been a long time since he’d gotten any kind of action that wasn’t his own hand.

He glances over at Jared, who’s leaning against the metal supports of the bleachers.

“Why are you doing this?” Jensen asks before he can stop himself.

Jared takes a deep breath and shrugs.

“’Cause it’s kinda fun to watch you lose your shit for a change. Besides, orgasms make everyone happy and it keeps you from bitching at me.”

Jensen scowls.

“Because I like it,” Jared says. “It’s different. It’s a… I dunno, a challenge.”

“A challenge?” Jensen repeats, sitting up.

“That’s not—” Jared cringes. “That came out wrong. I just meant, I like this. I like, um, being around you and stuff, I guess. You’re different.”

“You mean I’m different because I have a dick and I like guys.”

“Well there’s that,” Jared says. “And then there’s your sparkling personality.”

Jensen’s not sure if he’s satisfied with the answer but senses it’s the best he’s going to get.

Jared gets to his feet and drops his shorts, wadding them up in a ball and shoving them into his bag before slipping into a fresh pair of track pants.

“Are you… gonna keep those?” Jensen asks.

“I only have one pair,” Jared says defensively. “They’re expensive.”

Jensen blinks. That means every time Jared goes out on the field from now on, he’ll be wearing shorts Jensen came on.

He’s not sure if he should laugh, offer to buy him a new pair, or just accept it.

Jared clears his throat. “Do you wanna, uh, go for a walk or something? I mean, it’s so nice out.”

“Not sure if I _can_ walk,” Jensen mumbles.

“I know I rocked your world and all,” Jared grins. “But I think you can manage it.”

Jared reaches down to help him up and Jensen accepts his hand with a grunt.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Jared says.

“Shut up.”

They walk off the field then set off down the sidewalk towards campus together, knocking shoulders and elbows every so often when one of them gets too distracted to actually focus on walking.

They don’t talk much and Jensen finds himself watching the way Jared’s big hand swings at his side. He wouldn’t mind locking their fingers together, just to know how it’d feel, but hell if he’s gonna be the one to do it.

It’s the last blaze of heat before fall really sets in, an Indian summer that has him sweating in his uniform. Jensen undoes the top few buttons of his shirt and stows his tie in his bag, trying to ignore the way Jared watches him.

They stroll past the pond, avoiding the goose shit and make their way to the sycamores outside the main academic building.

Eldridge is in a suburb, but it’s fairly wooded and beautiful pretty much all year round. It’s situated in a valley and the campus covers a sizable chunk of land. In the summer, it’s vivid green and smells like hay from the farm behind it, the last standing in the face of all the suburban development.

Fall brings shades of orange and gold to the slim, decorative maple trees planted around the parking lot and the residence halls. Today, the sun shines through the leaves, setting them alight in shades of fiery, smooth red and yellow.

“So, how long have you been playing lacrosse?” Jensen asks, breaking the silence between them.

“Not that long. I picked it up when I was a freshman. I couldn’t decide whether to keep going with football or try something else. I like soccer and baseball, too, but I can’t fit them all or keep up my grades.”

“Must be hard to balance all that with school and student council.”

“Well, you’ve seen my grades,” Jared says.

Jensen nods.

“It’s just hard here, I guess,” Jared continues. “I know I should go to public school where it’s not as big of a deal, but my parents want me here. They want the best for me.”

“And what do you want?” Jensen asks.

He’d never imagined that Jared wasn’t happy here. He had the entire school wrapped around his finger, after all, and he barely had to put in effort to stay.

Jared shrugs. “All I know is that I feel best when I’m out on the field. People here are just… they think school’s everything.”

Jensen glances at him, but Jared misses it.

“I mean, there’s only so much school can teach you, and so much of it I’m just gonna forget anyways. I wouldn’t even bother at all if I didn’t want to get into college.”

“Yeah, but there’s stuff you like here,” Jensen points out.

“Yeah, English with Dinwiddie is pretty good. And I dunno where I’d be without Coach Pellegrino backing me up.”

“What about student council and all that?”

“It makes me feel like I’m doing something worthwhile. I can speak up about the stuff everyone else is too shy to mention. I like being able to help the team out.”

“That’s awfully wholesome of you,” Jensen says, smirking.

“I like the attention, too.”

Jensen laughs in spite of himself. “Knew there was more to it.”

But more and more, Jensen’s finding he doesn’t mind that part of Jared either.

“How ‘bout you? How’d you end up here?”

Jensen hesitates for a moment.

“Parents split when I was a kid,” he says. “Mom came northeast, Dad stayed south.”

“What’s she do?”

“Pretty much everything. Hospital work, research, teaching, chauffeuring my sister.”

“Research?” Jared asks.

They’re approaching Jensen’s dorm. The lawn outside is dotted with blue coated students sitting in circles with their friends, laughing and enjoying the last of the heat.

Jensen suddenly becomes intensely aware of how he must look standing next to Jared. Already a few eyes dart in their direction, whispers passing behind hands as sniggering girls cast appraising glances at Jared.

“Um, yeah. Medical, mostly. She knows her stuff.”

“Guess that runs in the family,” Jared says, ignoring the girls.

Jensen tries to do the same, but he puts some distance between his body and Jared’s all the same.

“I’m not half as smart or put together as she is.” Jensen keeps his eyes trained on the front door of his dorm. “She did all that _and_ raised three kids on her own.”

“My mom mostly dumped us on other families,” Jared says, but he doesn’t sound bitter. “She was always busy with my sister’s horseback riding competitions and my grandpa’s fundraisers.”

“Sorry,” Jensen offers. He doesn’t know what else to say. He’s not exactly an expert in talking about absentee parents even after twelve years of not having a father.

“It wasn’t bad,” Jared shrugs. “Tommy Henderson had a Playstation way before we did so I didn’t mind. I joined so many after school clubs I barely even noticed anyways. That’s how I got accepted here.”

 _That, and money._ He thinks it before he can stop himself but at least he didn’t say it out loud this time.

They start to slow down when they reach the steps.

“So,” Jared says, turning to look at Jensen.

“So,” Jensen repeats, feeling his pulse jump a little.

This is the part where he’s supposed to brush Jared off, maybe send him on his way with a few sharp words so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.

But even Jensen’s not sure what the wrong idea is anymore.

“I’ve got some work I’ve gotta take care of,” Jensen mumbles.

“Yeah,” Jared nods but doesn’t move right away.

He reaches forward, then seems to think better of it. His fingers brush Jensen’s forearm in farewell and he’s off, walking back down the hill.

Jensen blinks and looks down at his arm, bemused.

                *****

                Jared shows up at his dorm randomly on a Thursday night after practice.

                Jensen was wading through the pile of European History terms he had to memorize when Jared knocked. He’d practically burst through the door, obviously tense and pissed off. He smelled like sweat and had grass stains on his knees, having come straight from the field.

                “We had a scrimmage today against Hearst, and we just fucking _blew_ it. The kid they have replacing me is a freshman and he sucks.”

                “Sorry to hear,” Jensen says, putting another notecard into his completed stack of terms and pushing his glasses up his nose.

                “Like, I don’t get why I still have to come even though I’m ineligible. It’s just adding insult to injury. All I get to do is drills and then I just have to sit on the bench with my thumb up my ass. I _hate_ not being able to play enough without seeing the jackass they replaced me with.”

                Jensen nods, eyes still on his notecards.

                Jared flaps his t-shirt off his body, trying to cool off. “Sorry, I just realized how bad I reek.”

                “Yeah,” Jensen says, wrinkling his nose. “Kinda.”

                “Can I use your shower?”

                “I guess so.”

                “Thanks.”

                Jensen gets a few more cards done while he listens to the patter of the water, but his mind is already drifting from history.

                When Jared’s done, he comes out to grab his bag with nothing but a towel wrapped low on his waist. Jensen can see where his tan lines begin on his stomach.  

                “Padalecki, I said you could use my shower, not parade around my room like it’s yours.”

                “Sorry, I know it’s distracting,” Jared grins, pulling a red t-shirt on. He drops the towel when Jensen averts his eyes, rustling around in his bag.  

                “Yeah right,” Jensen snorts. But it really is.

                He glances back at Jared, who’s now wearing a pair of baggy shorts.

                “How long you been doing that?” Jared asks, pointing at the stack of notecards.

                “Couple hours,” Jensen says. “This test is like thirty-five percent of my grade.”

                Jared pads over to where Jensen’s sitting on the bed. He reaches for a mint from the dish on Jensen’s desk, unwraps it, and holds it up to Jensen’s lips. Jensen’s eyes narrow.

“You need to calm down,” Jared tells him. “You’re freaking.”

Jensen takes the candy from Jared’s fingers with his mouth. Brooding, he sucks on the mint and tries to take a deep breath through his nose. He doesn’t like that he’s become so predictable to Padalecki.

“Yeah, I’m freaking. I’ve been working on these for like a week and I still can’t remember jack squat.”

Jared sits on the side of the bed, a couple inches away from Jensen.

“Don’t you ever shut off? Why don’t you do something for yourself for once?” Jared asks.

“I can’t. I have too much to do.”

“Seriously. You need to relax or you’re gonna have a stroke. Your eyes are all red.”

Jared reaches out, putting a hand on his shoulder and Jensen flinches away from it before he can stop himself. He’s tightly wound and doesn’t feel like being apologetic tonight. He has work to do.

“Don’t. I can’t.”

“Hey, it’s cool,” Jared says, holding his hands up. “Nothing has to happen. I can leave.”

Jensen rakes a hand through his hair and it’s sticking up at all angles but he can’t bring himself to care very much.

“No, I… I just…” he flounders.

“Are you trying to ask me to stay?”

Jensen bites his lip and nods. “I guess.”

“I can, if you want.”

“You’ve got stuff to do, too.”

Jared hesitates. “Yeah, but—”

Jensen shakes his head. “I don’t want things to get more fucked up for you.”

Jared laughs. “It’d be a neat trick if they _could_ get more fucked up. Seriously Ackles, what you do you want me to do?”

He sprawls out on the bed and Jensen moves to make room for him, tentative. He rubs his eyes and shrugs at Jared. He just wishes his monster headache would let up.

Jared scoots in closer, warm against his thigh.

“Tell you what. I need a nap, so I’ll stick around ‘til you kick me out. How’s that?”

“Okay,” Jensen croaks. He really should have more balls. It wouldn’t kill him to just ask for a favor. Still, at least now he has a nice lap warmer.

Jensen gets back to making note cards, his left hand tangling absently in Jared’s hair. He smells like shampoo and Jensen’s citrus body wash. Jared whuffs appreciatively and he’s snoring about two seconds later.

It sucks that he’s not going to be able to play for a while and not only that, Jensen’s not going to have nearly enough time to tutor him.

He glances down at the boy sleeping open-mouthed against his leg. Jared has faint shadows under his eyes and Jensen thinks back on the way he’d practically pulled his own hair out talking about watching the scrimmage from the sidelines and Jensen has an idea.

He boots up his laptop and pulls up the school’s mainframe. He types in the username and password he saw hanging back after class. He doesn’t have to hack a thing.

It’s a betrayal of Morgan’s trust, but it’s hard to feel bad when it’s so damn easy. 

*****

The following week, Jensen hangs back outside the door of Morgan’s classroom, waiting for Jared.

“How’d it go?” Jensen asks as soon as Jared comes through the door.

Jared’s face is contorted in a mixture of disbelief and anger.

“See? I told you you’d do well if you just studied that sheet I made for you extra hard.”

His paper is marked with a large “91” in the top corner.

“The test was exactly what you tutored me on, Ackles.”

Jensen raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, how ‘bout that? Guess you have the world’s best Calc tutor after all.”

Jared looks at him, his lips pursed.

“Did you… did you do something to get the test beforehand?”

“No. I just asked Morgan what kind of stuff was gonna be on it.”

“Ackles, there’s no way you _happened_ to guess the exact equations he was going to use.”

Jensen shrugs. “I mean, if you paid attention in class, some of the problems were taken from the lectures.”

“I _do_ pay attention,” Jared snarls. “Stop bullshitting me and tell the truth.”

“Why? What do you care?” Jensen snaps back. “You passed. Hell, you did _great.”_

Jared opens his mouth to speak but hesitates.

“I just… you shouldn’t do this. It’s against the school Honor Code and you know how seriously they take that shit.”

“I’m not _doing_ anything,” Jensen says. “Now go back to your room and get ready to sit on the bench. This might even get you eligible again if you keep it up.”

                Jared looks like he might protest but grabs his bag.

Jensen waits until he’s gone before he rubs his eyes and yawns. 

*****

Running late for the second time that semester, Jensen makes the climb up the hill from his dorm towards the gym when the morning sunlight falls on a silvery glint in the corner of his eye. His jaw drops.

                Tom’s Audi convertible is parked in the center of The Circle, top down and _covered_ in geese. The birds are honking contentedly, preening and picking at the seats.

                Jensen changes direction and jogs over to the car. Someone’s sprinkled the interior with pieces of corn chips and a particularly long-necked bird hisses when Jensen gets too close.

                “Chill, they’re all yours,” he tells it, scooping a handful of the chips from the grass and tossing it to the goose. It quiets down and gobbles them greedily.

                Today is a fucking beautiful day.

                *****  
               

                Jensen isn’t able to talk to Jared until they’re in Dinwiddie’s class, sitting together in the back of the room.

                Tom’s not there, presumably still trying to vacuum the chips off the leather seats of his car.

                “You _stole his car?”_ Jensen blurts as soon as Dinwiddie has her back to them.

                “Nope, didn’t have to. Just got a bunch of the guys to help me carry it,” Jared grins. “Everyone thinks it’s a big joke. Best part is Tom can’t do anything about it.”

                “How come?”

                “’Cause he was at a party last night off campus that got busted. He can’t say anything without violating the Honor Code. Lots of kids got caught at that party and he was out past curfew without an alibi.”

Jensen grins. “That’s pretty slick, Padalecki.”

“I try,” Jared shrugs, obviously pleased with himself.

“Are the guys gonna keep their mouths shut?”

“You’ve obviously never been part of a team before. They’re gonna love watching Tom flip out too much to come clean and just tell him who did it.”

When class ends, the bell rings and everyone makes for the door at once.

Once they’re out in hall, Jensen nearly collides with Tom for a second time. Tom glares at Jared for a second, opens his mouth and closes it, then shoulders past them, almost knocking Jensen off his feet.

“Oh, look, if it isn’t Dick and Jane,” Tom sneers as he passes.

Jared scoffs but doesn’t say anything to Tom. Instead, he turns to Jensen.

                “I’m Dick.”

                “Yeah, you’re a dick if I’ve ever seen one,” Jensen says.

                “I _have_ heard you see a lot of ‘em.”

                “Fuck off,” Jensen scowls but his lips twitch from holding back laughter.

                “Whatever, Jane.”

                Jensen shoves him into a row of lockers and Jared grins, throwing an arm around his neck and putting him in a headlock and dragging him down the hallway.

                “Get off me, Padalecki,” he growls, scrabbling to get a hold on Jared’s uniform jacket. 

                “That a command?” Jared purrs into his ear. The clean scent of his deodorant tickles Jensen’s nose.

“Yeah, actually,” Jensen says, breaking free from Jared’s grip and trying to ignore the rush of his blood.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Jared says, still smiling.

“Will you?” Jensen asks.

“It’s Halloween,” Jared says incredulously. “ _Eldridge_ Halloween.”

“I don’t do Halloween.”

“You will.” Jared shoulders his backpack and gives him a parting grin. “See ya.”

*****

                Jared’s prediction turns out to be true.

The Halloween dance is only a warm-up for what everyone knows is coming next. The staff are probably aware too, but as long as they don’t catch anyone drinking in the dorms they’re content to turn their heads the other way while Eldridge students break curfew en masse.

                None of the parents of Eldridge students are interested in what they get up to, anyways, as long as they get good grades and don’t make any permanent record grade mistakes that reflect badly on Mommy and Daddy.

                This is the first year Jensen’s participated in the festivities, though he couldn’t tear himself away from his (and Jared’s) Calc homework long enough to buy a costume for the dance. He couldn’t be bothered.

                So, needless to say, he’d been mortified when Sophia dragged him back to her dorm to get ready for the realHalloween celebrations off-campus and showed him the matching Batman and Robin costumes they were going to be wearing.

                “It’s costume _only,_ Jenny. Don’t be such a downer.”

                “But I—” Jensen splutters, trying to fend off her advances with a pair of extremely spandex-y tights.

                “Everyone’sgonna be dressed up. You won’t even get in the door if you’re not.”

                Jensen spends what must be at least half an hour struggling with layer upon layer of spandex in Sophia’s bathroom and even after all that he’s not entirely sure everything is in the right place. He adjusts himself through his tights, grumbling, and steps out with the tips of his ears already going red. He’s a fantastic friend for putting up with this shit.

                Sophia takes in his costume and covers her mouth.

“Jesus, Jen, you look _hot._ Very boy wonder. _”_

“I look like a little kid. Or a stripper. Or a little kid stripper, I dunno,” Jensen grumbles at his reflection in the mirror. “Do I have to do the Speedo thing over the tights? I’m worried about my balls falling off.”

“It’s true to character,” she shrugs.

The bottom of Sophia’s costume is like, a million times sexier than Jensen’s since it’s a short pleather skirt and instead of tights she’s got on fishnets and killer heels. All _very_ true to character.

“I still don’t see why I have to be Robin,” Jensen whines.

“Because A, we both know I could kick your ass, and B, Robin was definitely gay.”

Jensen has to admit she looks great.

                The house is a decent walk and Jensen ends up holding Sophia’s heels until they find the place. True to what she said, it’s costume only and they actually have a guy dressed as Luigi checking at the front door.

                He gives them a conspiratorial nod and opens up, his bushy mustache twitching on his lip. A wave of heat and the smell of cheap vodka and loud hip hop envelopes Jensen as he’s whisked inside.

Sophia leads the way through the crowd, squeezing between their own wasted classmates and a bunch of college kids. It’s kind of funny to watch heads, both male and female, turn to watch the sexiest Batman high school has ever seen make her entrance. Jensen, meanwhile, trails in her wake, blushing scarlet under his mask.

                A haze of smoke hangs heavy in the air, mostly coming from a group of guys who look to be college aged. Two of them have Eldridge girls in their laps, both dressed as some kind of “sexy” animal. Eldridge kids are usually able to pass as older, probably because of the way they all carry themselves like adults already.

                Still, this is a side of their school Jensen knows nothing about. Sure he’s been to parties, but not like this. Sophia’s told him stories; he’s never seen it up close. Everyone’s drinking out of the ever-present red Solo cups, trying their best to live up to every teenage stereotype Jensen’s seen on TV. The music’s loud but no one’s really dancing since there’s too many people crowded into the house.

                There’s a table set up for what Jensen assumes must be beer pong and several older guys are howling themselves hoarse around it. A line of people snakes through the living room, all waiting for their chance at the keg. In the corner of the room, Chad’s smoking a bowl, giggling at something Lafferty’s saying. They’re sitting wedged into an armchair that’s obviously not meant for two, let alone two tall, athletic teenage boys.

                Sophia jumps the keg line and comes back with two cups of cold beer, pressing one into Jensen’s hand.

                “There. Now you can loosen up.”

                “I’m plenty loose,” Jensen grumbles, flinching as a shrieking girl staggers drunkenly into him.

                “Sorry,” she giggles, slopping her own beer over herself as she rushes off to catch up to her friend dressed as a “Sexy Giraffe,” a costume Jensen finds sort of mindboggling.

                “I mean, I’m all for having costume options, but this is getting—” Jensen stops midsentence when he realizes Sophia’s nowhere to be found.

                He scowls and searches the room, but it’s impossible to spot her in the shouting crowd.

                “Hey,” a voice says in Jensen’s ear, a warm body pressing up against his side.

                He doesn’t have to look to know it’s Jared.

He noses at Jensen’s throat, his mouth tantalizingly close to his jaw. Jared obviously didn’t make too much of an effort with his costume either. He’s dressed in a striped shirt and makeup as some kind of undead referee.

Jensen turns to face him, an eyebrow raised.

                “Wanna blow my whistle?” Jared asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

                “Please,” Jensen snorts and rolls his eyes. “Excuse me while I hurl.”

He notices that Jared’s pupils are blown and his eyes wide.

“What’re you on?” Jensen murmurs, standing on tiptoe so he can reach Jared’s ear.

                “’M just rolling. No big.”

                Jensen nods and sips from his cup. He should’ve figured. These kids could all afford whatever kind of drugs were on special tonight. Plus, with Jared off his sports teams he has no reason to abstain.

                “You wanna?” Jared smiles extra big, and for a second, Jensen almost wishes he could ‘cause it looks like a hell of a lot of fun.

“I’m okay. Gonna get another drink and try to find Soph.”

                Jared nods and squeezes his elbow. Jensen’s grateful that he doesn’t press the issue. It’s not that he’s afraid. Well, maybe a little. Mostly it goes against his self-discipline. Drinking’s enough for him, and besides, there’s that whole government lie detector test thing to worry about, and it’d be pretty stupid of him to blow a chance for a great job just because he was offered Molly in high school.

                Jensen weaves his way through the crowd, wrinkling his nose against the reek of alcohol and joining the line at the keg. He has to wait about twenty minutes, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other, trying to find Sophia when he notices a high-heeled Batman lining up a row of shots on the pool table in the living room. Danneel Harris is on the opposite side of the table, knocking back the first of her row to cheers, grinning at Sophia. Genevieve Cortese is pressed up against Danneel, giggling and holding on to her with one arm wrapped around her waist.

                Sophia salutes the two of them with the first of her shots then downs it easily before moving directly to the second. Jensen smiles and shakes his head, stepping up to the keg so a guy dressed as Darth Maul can pour him another cupful of watered down beer.

                Jensen turns away, sipping the foam from the top of his beer and nearly collides with Jared, who’s holding a shot glass in either hand.

                “Found you,” he grins, passing over one of the shots. “Happy Halloween.”

                Jensen stares at the blue liquid in his shot doubtfully. “You first.”

                “As you wish,” Jared says, downing the shot with a flourish and making a big show of savoring it. “Delicious, awful mystery booze.”

                Jensen takes a deep breath and follows suit, trying not to gag when it burns down his throat. “Shit, that’s foul.”

                Jared shrugs. “Take what you can get, eh?”

                Jensen shakes his head again and laughs. He’s already a little buzzed and the bass from the stereo thumps pleasantly.

 “So I thought you’d be one of those killjoys who’re too cool for Halloween,” Jared says. He’s still pretty with it considering he’s high, but his eyes wander around the room a lot and he’s smiling vaguely.

                “I am. But Sophia wasn’t having it.”

                “Ah. Then I know who to thank,” Jared replies, his eyes dropping down to cruise Jensen’s tights for the sixth time.

                Jensen’s face is hot under his mask. Someday he’ll get used to Jared’s advances. Maybe. Not any time soon. Jared nuzzles Jensen’s neck again, not seeming to mind that they’re in a room full of their classmates.

                They’ve never been this public. Does that mean he’s…? That they’re a…? Thing?

Jensen’s stomach wobbles. That’s not really a question he planned on answering any time soon. Or ever.

It’s actually a relief when he feels Jared press into his side and he’s already half-hard. He’s horny and Jensen’s convenient and that makes sense at least.

“Ackles, you should know, your ass looks incredible in tights.”

The way Jared’s breath tickles his skin is giving Jensen more than a few ideas.

“Shattap. People are staring.”

“Let them stare,” Jared shrugs. He starts tugging at Jensen’s hand. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs.”

“I’m not fucking you while you’re high, Padalecki,” Jensen laughs and swats Jared’s hand away. He reaches under Jensen’s cape and squeezes his ass instead, pressing Jensen closer to him.

“Who said anything about fucking?” He smiles. “There’re other ways to pass the time.”

Jared’s long fingers start kneading at his ass cheek which is equally bizarre and pleasant. “At least come outside with me, then.”

Jensen lets himself be led by the hand, trying not to feel too smug about how the hottest guy in the room is parading him around in front of their peers.

This place would be great for summer parties. It’s got an in-ground pool and a volleyball net set up in the lawn. Tonight it’s empty due to the fact that it’s fucking _cold_ and everyone with good sense is crowded in the sweltering kitchen.

Jensen’s skin erupts with goose bumps under his spandex. Jared must be too high (or drunk) to tell that he’s dragged him into the Arctic Circle.

“Here,” Jared proclaims. He sits cross legged by the pool and smiles up at Jensen. There’s none of the cocky taunting Jensen’s used to, just genuine, Molly-fuelled contentment. He pats the sandstone next to him.

“’S freezing,” Jensen’s teeth are chattering.

Jared pats the stone again, insisting.

Jensen sighs and gets down on the ground next to him. Jared immediately stretches out and puts his head in Jensen’s lap, long hair fanning out around his face. He closes his eyes.

Jensen rolls his eyes even if Jared can’t see it. He dips his left hand into the pool out of curiosity and figures out that it’s heated.

“Lift your head for a sec,” Jensen tells Jared. Jared grumbles but obeys so Jensen can roll up his horrible green tights.

“I thought Robin wore that little Speedo thing,” Jared mumbles.

“I’ve got it on over the tights. In case you haven’t noticed it’s kinda freezing.”

Jared giggles and puts his head back in Jensen’s lap once he’s got his legs into the warm pool water.

They sit in silence for a while before Jensen’s hand finds its way to Jared’s hair. He’s not sure why he does it, just that it looks really soft and he wants something to do with his hands. He starts weaving his fingers in and out, fingernails barely scratching Jared’s scalp.

Jared actually groans out loud.

“That feel good?” Jensen chuckles.

“You’ve got, ah, no idea,” Jared moans. “That’d feel good if I wasn’t, mmm, rolling but now—”

“Yeah, touching’s supposed to feel better isn’t it?”

He’ll take the way Jared goes boneless when Jensen’s fingers brush his cheek as a ‘yes.’

Jared’s eyelids peel back slowly and Jensen watches him come back to earth.

“Wanna kiss you,” he mumbles.

Jensen’s amazed that he can blush after everything he’s done with Jared. But blush he does. Jensen’s done some kissing, mostly while he was drunk; kids from other schools at Eldridge parties he knew he wouldn’t see again. He actually only ever kissed Chris the same day he lost his virginity to him. It’d been a whole day of firsts packed into a few short hours.

“You’re high, Padalecki,” Jensen reminds him. “You probably wanna kiss everybody at this party.”

“Mmmm, no. Just you.”

Jensen’s stomach gives a pleased little kick. Maybe he’s had too much to drink, because he leans down over Jared.

“You sure?”

“Yep.” Jared sits up and meets him halfway.

Their lips bump together, dry and clumsy, and it’s not exactly worthy of the big screen until Jared gets a better angle, becomes more demanding and Jensen lets him inside.

It’s hot and wet with a bite of alcohol as Jared’s tongue tangles with Jensen’s. He gets a hand around the back of Jensen’s neck to pull him in closer, bending Jensen’s spine practically in half.

It’s been a long time since he kissed anyone and Jensen’s blood buzzes like he’s done another shot, right down to the way heat shoots through him and pools in his stomach. His toes curl in his boots, warmth prickling the balls of his feet and wriggling up his legs into his groin.

When they break apart, Jared lays his head back down, nose pushing into Jensen’s thigh. He doesn’t seem to notice that Jensen’s half-hard, despite the fact his tights are making it obvious.

It’s nice. For once, neither of them has anything to prove. It’s just human touch on Halloween night, like they’re anybody else.

For the first time, Jensen thinks about how different things would be if they hadn’t met at Eldridge, if he and Jared had crossed paths at the grocery store, or at a party like this. Would the boy in his lap have noticed him?

Jared’s firmly in the top tier at school while Jensen’s only touched popularity because he’s friends with Sophia. As a freshman, Jensen’s only other friend was Misha, and it’d been that way until Chris started going out of his way to talk to him at school, and even then, it wasn’t like they held hands in the hallway.

Jensen had never wanted the attention Chris and Sophia got until he realized he had it bad for the star quarterback and that the whole school thought he was an uptight closet case with an ego too big to fit in the closet with him. He didn’t come out until after Chris graduated, and even then, it wasn’t like he was comfortable proclaiming it on street corners or anything. After freshman year, Jensen kept his head down and pencil on paper, burying himself in impossible mountains of homework to keep himself busy and working on software code with Misha in the very little spare time he had. Summer vacations weren’t any different—he rose early in the mornings and worked with Misha late into the night. His mom worried about him, but it wasn’t like she was home often enough to nag him into changing his habits.

The fact was, without school, Jensen’s skin crawled. Every time he walked past Chris’ house, he was hit with a MACK truck of memories: of his inadequacies, of all the things he should’ve done differently the previous year. He didn’t try hard enough in school and Chris didn’t think he was worth sticking around for. And Jensen agreed. He’s never been able to pinpoint his own worth except through work.

At Eldridge, he has numbers to tell him where he falls in the student body, who’s doing better and who’s worse. He’s valuable because he has paper to tell him so; certificates of merit, awards for excellence.

Now he has this living, breathing, too-tall blur of energy with shaggy hair and moles who smiles a lot and even tells him he’s perfect _,_ and Jensen’s maybe starting to get it. The thing is, it’s _not_ perfect, and Jensen wouldn’t know what to do with it if it was.

Jensen cards his fingers through Jared’s hair again, Jared heaving a happy sigh and turning his face into the touch.

Jared’s not the guy of his dreams. Wet dreams, maybe, but he’s not Chris and he never will be. But this is something he could get used to; the warm weight in his lap and no one else around.

Of course, it doesn’t last.

“Aw, isn’t this precious?” Someone crows from behind them.

                Jensen jumps and Jared’s head pops up and his muzzy eyes try to focus behind Jensen.

                Jensen’s already getting to his feet, all but dumping Jared off his legs. He doesn’t know why he’s embarrassed. They’ve been pretty obvious all night and he’s not _ashamed_ of Jared or anything, it’s just it’s not— _they’re_ not—

                It turns out that the voice belongs to Tom Welling and everything only gets worse from there. A handful of his hangers-on have followed him outside and make cooing noises at Jensen and Jared.

                Jared’s still lying beside the pool and closes his eyes like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

                “Fuck off, Welling,” he groans. “Just go away.”

                Jensen wonders if he should make a run for it now while everyone’s distracted waiting for Tom’s reply.

                “So you and your boyfriend can go back to sucking each other off?” Tom snorts.

                “Oh, that’s right,” Jared says, starting to sit up. “Your car’s still fucked up, isn’t it? How hard is it get bird shit off leather?”

                Tom lunges forward but two of his friends hold him back.

“I _know_ you’re up to something. I know you’ve been trying to fuck with me, Padalecki,” Tom’s almost foaming at the mouth, tearing to get at Jared, who’s watching him with an eyebrow raised.

“And I know you’re the one who screwed up my car.”

The raised voices bring more people out on to the patio and Jensen really wishes he would’ve fought harder against the whole wearing tights idea because there’s nothing he’d like better than to disappear at the moment.

Half the lacrosse team is there—Steve Carlson and Brock Kelly and a bunch of guys Jensen recognizes from the practices he’s been to. Genevieve and Katie and a handful of senior girls are hanging off to the side with wide eyes. Some of the guys who look college age are sniggering, money changing hands already.

                Tom’s struggling against the guys holding him, swearing while Jared just watches, unruffled.

“Tom! Calm. Down,” Genevieve tugs her sometimes-boyfriend back by the tails of his shirt.

Danneel Harris is suddenly there, too, her arms around Genevieve’s waist as she leads her away, back towards the house.

“C’mon, Gen. It’s not worth it. He’s an asshole, let them work it out.”

Genevieve protests, obviously a little drunk, but eventually caves and allows herself to be led away by her friend. The rest of the crowd disperses slowly when it becomes evident there’s probably not going to be a fight.

It’s just them, Chad, Tom, and Tom’s friends—all of whom are taller than Jensen and twice as broad.

Jensen’s heart hammers in his ear louder than the music. His hands are shaking, his knees like the Jell-O in the shots he’d had earlier. Should he run for it? Should he stay? Jared’s outnumbered but it’s not like he’d be useful in a fight, and even so…

Tom turns his pale eyes on Jensen.

“And _you,_ you’re in on this somehow, I fucking know it—”

For the first time, Jensen sees something in Tom that makes him think maybe they’ve made a mistake in messing with him.

And then Jared’s finally on his feet, towering over everyone else.

“Back off,” Jared snarls. Chad takes a step forward to show he’s got Jared’s back, which might be more intimidating if he wasn’t stoned out of his mind and wearing a banana suit.

Tom’s eyes flicker from Jared over to Jensen again, and for a second, Jensen wonders if he’s putting the pieces together.

“I know Gen’s hanging out with you. You better watch yourself,” Tom murmurs in a voice only Jensen and Jared can hear.

“I guess that’s probably because we’re _friends_ and I didn’t fucking cheat on her,” Jared says, rolling his eyes and not bothering to keep his voice down.

“And it’s the only reason she’d ever go for second-best,” Tom retorts. “Why don’t we just settle this right now, Padalecki? Keep it off the field.”

“Cops!” Someone yells. “Everyone who’s not twenty-one, fuck off!”

Tom looks at Jared again with his jaw clenched, but turns tail with his pack of jocks following him.

“Should we go?” Jensen asks Jared.

“Nah,” Chad says. “It’s just what they say to get the underclassmen out.”

“We’re not even college kids,” Jensen says.

“But we look like it. Watch, no one will say anything.”

Sure enough, there aren’t any flashing lights and no one hassles them to leave.

“I’m going back inside,” Chad says. “See you jerkoffs later.”

                Jensen exhales heavily and sits back down at the edge of the pool, running a hand through his hair. His heart’s still pounding and he finishes the dregs at the bottom of Jared’s cup, grimacing from the bite of whatever was in the “jungle juice.”

                Jared goes back inside for a while and Jensen’s just starting to think he might start walking home alone when he reappears with a fresh cup in his hand. Jared sits beside him and dangles his legs in the pool, too.

                “Sorry. Wanted to have a few more drinks.”

                Jensen shrugs.

                “You would’ve had my back, right?” Jared asks abruptly.

                “Sure,” Jensen says, not looking at him.

                Jared nods and looks straight ahead. “’S funny. I wasn’t always like this,” he says.

“Huh?”

“I used to be shy,” Jared continues. “Like, couldn’t talk to anyone. Not girls. Wouldn’t have been able to talk to you.”

“Why?” Jensen asks, baffled.

Jared turns to face him, eyes sweeping over Jensen’s face.

“You’re like, really. Really, uh, beautiful? But in a guy way.”

Jensen snorts so hard he almost chokes. “Thanks.”

                “But now I’m an asshole, and it’s like… everyone _likes_ me because of it? I don’t get it.”

                “I don’t either,” Jensen says, taking Jared’s cup away from him. “But I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

                “Yeah, pro’ly,” Jared murmurs. “I mean, here it’s okay, though. Everyone’s an asshole. And I’m not sorry. I don’t give a shit. I don’t have to apologize to these people. I don’t owe them anything.”

                The color’s high in Jared’s cheeks. He’s drunk and rolling and he’s never looked better.

                “You always get this philosophical when you’re wasted?” Jensen asks.

                “No. I just—I fucking hate Tom.”

                “Me too.”

                “And Gen thinks I’m like this super down-to-earth guy and—yeah.”

                “Hmm,” Jensen says.

                “But you—you get it.” Jared looks over at him. “This is it. This is me,” Jared says as he gets to his feet. “This is all I have. Take it or leave it.”

                He stands up again, glaring down at Jensen, who decides in a split second that he’d rather take it.

He stands up, too, knotting a hand in the front of Jared’s costume.

“Fuck you,” he murmurs for no particular reason and kisses Jared.


	8. Eight

_'Cause I don't stand a chance in these four walls_  
 _And he don't recognize me anymore_  
 _Burned out flames should never re-ignite_  
 _But I thought you might_ ****  
  


“So, how was it?”

It’s Saturday morning and a beam of morning sunlight is hitting him at just the wrong angle. He turns over in bed, feeling itchy and sweaty and generally disgusting.

From what he remembers of the previous night, Sophia ended up crashing in his room because she was too drunk to find her keys. He doesn’t mind and he has the most relaxed RA on campus so there’s zero likelihood of him getting in trouble for having a girl in his dorm.  

“How was what?” Jensen mutters. His head is absolutely pounding.

“Um, I dunno, maybe finally sealing the deal with Padalecki?”

“Sealing wha…?”

“You guys were _all over_ each other last night. You can’t tell me you didn’t.”

“We didn’t.”

Sophia looks at him in the mirror.

“Jesus, Jenny. Only you, I swear to God.”

“Only me what?”

“Talk about self-denial. I hope it wasn’t because of Chris.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jensen groans and pulls his pillow over his head. Waking up and discussing his sex life first thing in the morning is not exactly his idea of a good time.

“Only that you’ve been, like, pining for him since he split town?”

“Pining?” Jensen flings the pillow away from himself just so she can see the full effect of his gaping. “I don’t _pine.”_

Sophia’s lower lip quivers and her eyes go big and shiny in the glass as she does her best imitation of Jensen’s pout.

“ _It’s okay if he doesn’t call, I don’t care,”_ she says in a breathy sigh.

“Shut up,” Jensen snaps, tossing the pillow at her instead. He nails her in the back of the head, causing her hand to jerk so that her lipstick smears across her cheek.

“Jen- _sen,_ ” she screeches. “I’m going to fucking kill you, do you know how much this shit costs?!”

Jensen grins and ducks back under the blankets. “Truce?”

“Fuck you, _truce!”_ She tackles him two seconds later, knocking the wind out of him.

“Mercy! Have mercy!” Jensen wails as she punches him all over. He ruffles the hair she spent so long straightening and by the time they’re done wrestling it’s so disheveled she has to spend thirty minutes combing out the tangles, bitching at him the whole time.

At least until she starts back in on his personal life.

“But seriously Jen, what’s going on with you and Padalecki?”

“I dunno. We’re fucking around, that’s all.”

“Is it gonna stay that way?”

“What d’you mean?” Jensen asks, his stomach flipping.

“I mean, how serious are you guys? A lot of people saw what happened last night. They’re gonna talk, whether or not it’s true. He must like you. Like, what if he wants to _get_ with you?”

“No,” Jensen says immediately.

“Why not?”

“Because he’d go bragging about it to all his little jock buddies and, I dunno, it’s not like he doesn’t get laid enough by half the cheer squad anyways.”

“Seriously Jenny, I don’t think it’s like that.”

“ _You_ were the one who told me not to get involved with him,” Jensen huffs.

“Yeah, but. Things are different than I thought they’d be.”

“Meaning what?”

“I thought one of you would’ve murdered the other by now,” Sophia says.

“It gets close sometimes,” Jensen mutters. “Point being, I’m not just gonna be another trophy fuck on the Jared Padalecki shelf.”

“You think you’rea trophy lay? Hm, not sure about that one.”

Jensen scowls. “How would _you_ know? Just because the last guy I slept with left town doesn’t mean I—”

Sophia cracks up at that.

“But c’mon, you had it so bad for Kane. Still do,” Sophia rolls her eyes. “I mean, yeah, the guy’s hot and all, but if he’s part of it… Greener pastures, Jenny.”

“I don’t give a shit about Chris. That was forever ago.”

Not giving a shit about Chris isn’t entirely true, he does care. It’s just not like Sophia thinks it is.

He’s grateful that she doesn’t press the issue. She’ll bring it up, which is more than any of his other friends will do, but she never pushes it too far because she gets it.

She’s only had one or two boyfriends despite the fact she’s been drowning in dudes since the sixth grade. She knows what’s at stake even at their age.

For both of them, it’s always been about looking out for their own interests—career and school first, then family, then dating. Hooking up has worked fine for Sophia, and it’s starting to work for Jensen, too. He doesn’t have time for a boyfriend, and even if he did, Padalecki would hardly be a good candidate.

He’s going to college soon, and Padalecki will be little more than a memory—a couple of hand jobs and a general pain in the ass. He’s gonna turn eighteen next year. He’ll officially be an adult, despite the fact that he’s felt like one for years.

Eldridge kids don’t spend much time as “kids” at all.

*****

“What’re you doing tonight, Ackles?” Jared says on the other line.

“Studying for Euro. Why?”

“You wanna come over and get stoned and maybe make out?”

“I’m _studying,_ Padalecki.”

“Yeah but I bet you know it all already anyways. Or I could help you study.”

“Help me study?” Jensen repeats dubiously. “And how would you do that?”

“I dunno, I blow you if you get all the answers right or somethin’, I’m sure we could figure out a system.”

Jensen smiles in spite of himself. “Hmm, sounds tempting but I actually want to graduate someday, so…”

 “C’mon, Ackles. Lighten up, it’s a Friday.”

Jensen glances at the clock on his bedside table. Curfew’s in an hour, but he can probably get away with it.

                “How much shit you got under your bed?”

                “Uhhh, a lot, why?”

                An hour and a half later, Jensen slides out from underneath Jared’s bed, picking candy wrappers off his shirt.

                “Sorry, I forget about the rubble down there, y’know.”

                Jensen cringes.

                “Hold still.”

Jared picks a pillow feather from Jensen’s hair and blows it at his face. Jensen wrinkles his nose and swats it away.

“Thanks for that. You sure your RA isn’t gonna come back?”

“Positive,” Jared assures him.

                Jensen sits on the edge of Jared’s bed and Jared flops down in his desk chair, reaching for the middle drawer of his desk.

                “False bottom,” he grins and shows Jensen the hollowed out space. “Chad showed me how to do it. He’s like, a pro at shop.”

                He takes out a glass bowl and a baggy of dried up plant material. Jensen supposes that must be it since he’s never smoked weed before. It doesn’t look all that sinister.

                “So you’ve never done this?” Jared asks.

                “Nope.”

                “Not even once?”

                “Nah. If you’re applying for government jobs they make you do this lie detector test about drug use.”

                “That’s fucked up.”

                “It is,” Jensen agrees. “Very Big Brother.”

                “So you’re sure you won’t get in trouble for this?”

                And the truth is the Jensen of just a few weeks previous would’ve flipped shit if put in this situation. But he’s been doing a lot of thinking lately. Ever since he talked to Misha, he’s felt less and less sure of his future with the government.

                One shot job prospect isn’t the end of the world. Besides, like Misha had said, he wants to live on his own terms for once, and this is something so small, so stupid to waste time worrying over when he has a whole shitload of other stuff on his list.

                “I’m good.”

                “You sure I’m not corrupting you?”

                “You wish.”

                Jared grins. “Put your finger over this hole, okay? And don’t move it. I’m gonna light it for you.”

                Jensen does so as Jared ignites the packed bowl. “Rules are: no dropping the bowl, and take turns. First timers don’t pay. Breathe,” Jared tells him.

                Jensen inhales, sucking in for all he’s worth.

                “Woah, Jesus! Slow down, cowboy.”

                Jensen’s throat is on fire and his lungs are collapsing. He’s going to die. He coughs, choking and spluttering and heaving, holding his stomach and a horrible, too-sweet acrid burn rips through him.

                Jared thumps him on the back, cackling.

                “’s not… Not funny,” Jensen wheezes, coughing some more.

                “You wanna try again? Slower?”

                Jensen nods, gritting his teeth. This is a rite of passage, damn it.

                He takes the bowl again and Jared lights it for him. It still burns and his throat is scorched and raw and he doesn’t feel any different.

                “Give it a while. Sometimes first timers don’t get high.”

                Jensen nods watches Jared light it for himself, the flame of the Zippo casting shadows over his face. He makes it look so easy, holding the smoke in like it’s nothing. He exhales and the too-heady scent washes over Jensen again.

                Jensen’s on edge, waiting for some kind of change to overtake him. Jared doesn’t seem any different. How long does weed take, anyways?

                Jared turns on the TV and they watch _South Park_ in silence for a while. When Jared finally speaks, his voice is a little thicker, a little slower. In fact, everything is a little thicker and a little slower. When he turns to face Jared, a creeping, slow pleasure burns through his body and he smiles in spite of himself.

                “Y’know I really like you, Ackles. At first I thought you were, like, a total geek or somethin’.”

                “Thanks, I guess,” Jensen laughs.

                “Like fucking around with you, too. ‘S nice.”

                “Yeah.” Jensen leans back, trying to stay focused on Jared.

“You have a thing about getting off, don’t you?” Jared asks.

                “What do you mean by a _thing?”_

                “You like to be teased.”

                Jensen shrugs. He’s never had to explain it. He’s not sure that he can. It might be hard for someone like Jared to get. He sees what he wants and takes it, no hesitation. But then in Geology… he’d shown he had some patience; some part of him that enjoyed the tease. After all, he could’ve jerked Jensen off in class and been done with it.

                “It’s just, I like the feeling of being turned on. I mean, I like it, and I really dislike it. I can’t control it.”

                Jared nods for him to go on.

                “But sometimes I need to let go. I dunno if you’ve noticed but I kinda have a hard time with that.”

                Jared huffs a laugh. “Ya think?”

                Jensen gives him a wan smile. He never thought he’d be sitting around discussing orgasms with any of his classmates besides Sophia, let alone Padalecki. He’s feeling a little bolder and maybe loose and sleepy. Everything seems funnier, and it’s suddenly nothing at all to talk about his sex drive.

                “I like drawing it out.”

                “Huh,” Padalecki says, like he’s considering Jensen’s words. “That’s probably why you come so hard.”

                Jensen feels a flush creeping up his neck. “I didn’t realize it was any worse than other people’s.”

                “It’s not _worse._ I envy you, man. When you get off it’s like—” Jared mimes a rocket launching into space.

                “It’s not for you?”

                “It can be. Guess I’m more used to it,” Jared grins.

                “You _sound_ like you’re—” Jensen mimics his rocket motion.

                Jared shrugs and his smile falters. “Sometimes.”

                “Just when I blow you?”

Jared’s expression goes sheepish.

“Seriously?” Jensen sits up. “No way.”

Jensen can’t help it when he starts to giggle. He blames the weed.

Jared waves him off, but he smiles too. He grabs the front of Jensen’s Oxford and pulls him closer, the chair wheels squeaking as it slides across the floor.

His eyes sweep over Jensen’s face, lingering on his mouth and Jensen nods, still giggling and coughing as Jared presses his lips to Jensen’s. It’s slow and lazy and unlike everything else about them. Jared’s tongue is a slick, charged pressure against his own.

“I’m kinda glad you didn’t make swim team this year,” Jensen confesses when they break apart.

“Why’s that?”

“Because,” Jensen says, catching Jared’s lips for a second time. He demonstrates by tangling strands of Jared’s hair between his fingers as he gets a better angle.

“You’re just hoping I’ll start blowing you on Saturday mornings.”

“Wouldn’t complain.”

“Greedy,” Jared smirks.

Once they start kissing in earnest they end up tangled on Jared’s unmade bed and Jensen has a hard time trying to stop laughing.

“Your roommate…” Jensen gasps as Jared’s mouth cuts him off mid-sentence. “Gonna be back soon?”

“I know. That’s part of the fun.”

Jared pushes his hands up Jensen’s t-shirt, his fingers spread out wide as though to feel as much of him as he possibly can at once.  

“You’re twisted,” Jensen pants and smiles wider, licking a line along Jared’s bottom lip.

                As if on cue, the door swings open and Jensen jumps away from Jared so fast he slides off the bed. Blushing, he picks himself up off the carpet while Jared laughs himself stupid.

                “Hey, Jay,” a voice says over the commotion. “Hey Jensen.”

                Jensen looks up to see Matt Cohen hanging his coat in the messy closet and looking perplexed at the scene he just walked in on.

                “Uh… hey, Matt. I didn’t know… uh, I didn’t know you guys were roommates,” Jensen glares daggers at Jared.

“You guys know each other?” Jared says with a dazed smile.

“You might say that,” Matt mumbles. “I’m, uh, gonna go make some food in the kitchen. See ya later.”

As soon as the door closes Jensen whirls on Jared. “You didn’t say _Matt Cohen_ was your roommate.”

“Does that matter?” Jared asks, sliding off the bed to sit next to Jensen on the carpet and taking a swig from his water bottle.

Jensen’s blushing all over now.

“Well yeah, kinda, since I blew him at a party last year.”

Jared chokes.

“You _what?_ ”

“It was just a onetime thing,” Jensen mutters. “I was drunk. Like really drunk.”

Jared looks at him like he’s seeing him for the first time. “Wow.”

“I thought he was the one who, uh…”

“Who what?” Jared urges.

“Who told you I give good head,” Jensen finishes with his neck darkening another two shades down the color scale.

Jared blinks. “If I was the type, Ackles, I think I might get jealous.”

“As if you don’t get enough,” Jensen snorts.

“Could always get more,” Jared says with a slow smile.

“You wanna?” Jensen sits up a bit straighter and licks his lips. He’s been thinking about Jared a lot since Halloween, maybe more than he should. It’s just, they’ve barely kissed and it’s eight different kinds of wonderful when Jared’s hands are on him and his tongue’s inside his mouth and. Basically Jensen’s more or less obsessed with the idea, especially now when his head is swimming pleasantly and Jared’s hand is moving towards his thigh.

“I guess I wouldn’t hate if we saw more of each other,” Jared says softly.

“I wouldn’t either,” Jensen admits. “Except maybe not when Matt’s here.”

“You’re no fun.”

*****

                They have a short fall break after midterms, a four day weekend to recuperate from the all-nighters and consequent nervous breakdowns.

                Jensen had barely scraped through his own workload, pulling all-nighters even when he spent all his time studying. Calc had gone well enough, but he’s not feeling as confident about Euro or Grammar & Comp.

                Dinwiddie’s essay questions were always frustratingly vague, while Shields’ open-ended Geology questions had to be worded with a plethora of terms straight from the vocab in the textbook for the most credit.

                Jensen kicks through the piles of dried up leaves, each of his steps a crisp _crunch_ on the pavement as he makes his way to the bus stop at the corner where Suddard intersects Everglades.

                Being home’s been good, a chance to clear his head after everything that’s happened. It’s like his life’s been stuck on fast-forward lately. His semester’s flying past before his eyes, what with his spending every hour of daylight either working or in class and his nights taken up by groping Jared like his GPA depends on it.

Jensen waits at the bus stop and wishes it’d hurry the hell up. His hands are freezing and he can only mess with his phone for so long before getting bored. He’s supposed to be running to the local CVS for his mom’s prescriptions and Donna took his car in to have its oil changed. He’s not sure if he’s even at the right stop for the bus into town, but he’ll just have to wait and see.

                At long last it pulls up to the curb. Jensen steps forward to get on when a broad figure cuts into his path, soft guitar case slung over its shoulder. Jensen squints in the autumn sun to get a better look at the guy to see if he’s too big to swear at and almost falls backwards in shock.

                “No fucking way is that Jensen Ackles.”

                “It is,” Jensen chokes out lamely, because he knows that voice, deep and accented like his own would be if he hadn’t tried so hard his whole life to hide his Dallas upbringing.

                Because no fucking way is that Christian Kane.

                A second later his face is pressed into a whole lot of wool peacoat and he can’t breathe as Chris wraps him in an enormous bear hug.

Just to be sure he’s not dreaming, Jensen glances up at the street signs. He can decipher the names “Suddard” and “Everglades” clearly (he read somewhere that reading is impossible in dreams but that might be a load of BS), and settles on staring at Chris.

He’s even bigger than Jensen remembers, all muscle and broad shoulders. Jensen’s not sure he likes Chris’ hair grown out like that, but it’s shiny and thick. He looks good.

                “You feel like gettin’ a coffee and catching up?”

                Chris looks so much older than Jensen, with his guitar and the shadow of a goatee on his chin and jaw. He’s an adult, making his own way and actually succeeding instead of daydreaming like they used to in those days spent in Chris’ bedroom after school.

                “Yeah, okay,” Jensen swallows and wipes his palms on his coat. The prescription can wait.

                He walks back to Chris’ place with him and climbs into his truck like nothing’s changed.

                *****

                Jensen’s not sure what he expected, but being around Chris isn’t much different from how it used to be. He’s still way too into football, rattling off names and statistics that might as well be a foreign language to Jensen. He thinks of time in football match-ups rather than months, always starting off a story by saying things like “ _It was the night the Giants were playing the Eagles…”_

Except now, Chris regales him with stories from life on the road as Jensen sips a pumpkin spice something or other that’s way too sweet for his liking.

The corner café Chris brought him to is in town, off one of the main streets. He’d never noticed it before and probably would’ve walked right past it if Chris hadn’t steered him through the door. The inside is a little worn-down but spacious, with little black tables and chairs. There’s even a small stage set against the wall.

“This is where it all started,” Chris says, smiling reminiscently. “I came here to play guitar and sing a few months before I graduated high school.”

“You did?” Jensen asks, blowing on his hot coffee.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Chris nods. “But there was a girl here, Jess, and she thought I had something.”

“Jess?”

“No one you know,” Chris says, waving a hand. “We ended up catching a bus west and trying our luck out in Pittsburgh. Started out doing duets in bars before we went our separate ways.”

“Then what?”

“Then I met up with some guys interested in doing something a little closer to home, and I ended up in Dallas again, playing country.”

“That didn’t take long,” Jensen says, taking another sip of coffee.

“It was surprisingly fast,” Chris nods. “We got booked as a support act for a singer out of Austin on a small venue tour, and then we were able to do some co-headlining gigs at small clubs.”

                “So how long were you out last tour?”

                “Just about three months, not too bad. Did a short circuit down the west coast and southwest, before looping back around to LA and staying with my girlfriend for a few weeks.”

                The fact that he has a girlfriend isn’t really surprising. Chris had always struck him as pretty straight. At least until he’d had Jensen underneath him on a Tuesday afternoon, panting and sweating in the hour they had before Chris’ mom came home from work.

                He’d known Jensen was gay and it never seemed to bother him, didn’t mind that Jensen followed him around like a lovesick puppy. They didn’t have to talk about it because Jensen had always sort of assumed that Chris would stick around after school, try to get a spot on Penn State’s roster or maybe tend a dive bar and they’d be friends and that would be that.

                Jensen hadn’t really planned for him splitting town only a week after graduation without leaving so much as an address.

                Chris seems to be reading his mind because a second later he leans in and mutters, “Hey, man. I’m really sorry about… before. About leaving and stuff. I didn’t think it’d be permanent.”

                “Neither did I,” Jensen says before he can stop himself.

                Chris pulls back. “I meant to call, or something, it’s just… y’know how it is when you get away from your folks. I just wanted some time to figure things out for myself and it was all coming together.”

                Jensen actually has no idea. Despite the fact he boards at Eldridge and doesn’t live at home, it’s not exactly a long journey back to his mom’s place. Hell, she still does his laundry if he brings it back with him.

                He lets Chris’ comment pass.     

“So, um, how long are you back for?”

                “Could be a just for a few weeks, could be a while. Not sure yet.”

                “…Okay?”

                “I’ve uh, come to see about the assistant coaching job open at Eldridge. In the meantime, I’m tending a bar down in Springfield.”

                Chris back at Eldridge. Potentially working with Jared sometime in the future. Huh.

                “I just miss being home. I miss the town and having some kind of stability, I guess. This past year’s been kinda wild. I just wanna play guitar and write new material with a clear head.”

                Chris glances up at Jensen. “You don’t really appreciate all the things home has to offer ‘til you’re gone.”

                It’s something straight out of one of Jensen’s incredibly cheesy dreams from freshman year. Not in a million years did he think Chris Kane would actually say anything like that.

                “Isn’t that a Cinderella song?” is all he can think to say in response.

                Chris snorts and rolls his eyes. “I’m trying to be serious, here.”

                “Yeah, I know.”

                Chris might have a girlfriend, but it doesn’t stop his gaze from wandering when he thinks Jensen isn’t looking.

                Jensen flushes, suddenly very aware of every movement he makes. He knows how the night’s going to end way before Chris gets a call from his parents inviting them both to come home for dinner.

                Jensen doesn’t for a second let himself believe that it means anything. It’s only an inevitable continuation on the note they’d left off on, as though Chris has been gone a month instead of years.

                At dinner, Chris’ parents exclaim over how tall Jensen’s gotten, though they’ve seen him around the neighborhood over holiday breaks. Mrs. Kane says how nice it is to have them both at the dinner table again and Jensen fakes smiles for their benefit.

He tries not to think too much about what’s going to happen when he inevitably follows Chris up the stairs, the same path he’s walked hundreds of times. He’s too nervous to eat and mostly just pushes his food around his plate with his fork. He wants this but it doesn’t mean his stomach’s not churning.

                After dinner Chris’ parents go upstairs and leave them alone in the kitchen. Chris brings out a bottle of tequila.

                “Don’t tell your mom,” Chris says, grinning.

                “Fuck off, I’m seventeen.”

                Chris guffaws at that.

                “Seventeen, Jesus Christ it seems like forever ago already. You ever done tequila shots?”

                “Yeah,” Jensen lies.

                Chris nods and lays out a few slices of lime. Jensen’s not really sure what to do with them, so he waits for Chris to take the first shot before mimicking him.

 They knock back a few more and Jensen manages not to pull a face in front of Chris. It’s almost like he’s not a junior in high school who’s still following him around. He’s making him feel grown up, and, oddly, even more like a child.

 Chris doesn’t notice. The more he drinks, the more he talks soft and low about playing in his band.

                “’S the best kinda buzz there is, Jen. I didn’t think we’d ever make it so far. Thought I’d be back home in a couple months with nothing but my guitar to my name.”

                “Yeah. Me too,” Jensen grins.

                Chris huffs and gives him a light shove across the table.

                Jensen flushes. It’s the first time that night Chris has touched him on purpose. Chris notices Jensen’s reaction and clears his throat, sucking on a lime to chase down the taste of tequila.

                When he starts to reach out towards Chris, Jensen knows he’s drunk. He drops his hand to the table and picks up another shot, hoping it’ll calm his nerves.

                Chris takes another one, too, and Jensen watches his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows.

                “Y’know, I missed it here more than I thought I would. I missed this. But like I said, I just… I didn’t want to tell anyone where I was. Just in case.”

                “In case what?” Jensen asks, trying to keep his tone mild. In case Jensen wanted to find him? In case Jensen tried to out him to everyone?

                “In case things didn’t work out,” Chris says. “It wasn’t you. It was never—” He breaks off, looking a little lost and pressing a hand to his eyes.

                “Sure,” Jensen says. He’s almost seeing two of Chris and he should probably go home, but since he got into Chris’ truck that was never an option. He’d even sent a text to his mom hours ago saying he wouldn’t make it home tonight since Chris was back.

                He almost laughed out loud when he thought about what Donna probably thought they were doing. Catching up, playing video games, talking about girls and slapping each other on the back. She’d always encouraged their friendship, oblivious that she was fanning the flame of Jensen’s hope.

                Chris lowers his hand, his light eyes locked on Jensen. He opens his mouth to speak but Jensen doesn’t give him the chance. Made brave by tequila and thinking _now or never_ and knowing he can’t wait a second longer, he stands up, crosses the table, and looks down at Chris with his arms folded across his chest, waiting.

                Chris stands up on unsteady legs and then they’re tangled together, Jensen’s mouth filled with the taste of lime and Chris, fumbling with each other’s clothes as they make for the stairs.

*****

                When Chris gets his pants off in his bedroom, Jensen’s half-surprised through his buzz that Radiohead isn’t playing on the stereo. His ears are filled with nothing but their breathing, Chris’ soft grunts as Jensen jerks him off in long, slow strokes.

                Chris pushes him down on the bed and they’re surrounded by the same posters of meathead football players, though they look a little faded compared to the last time Jensen had been here. Like last time, Jensen doesn’t see much of them because for most of the next half hour his eyes are scrunched shut or he’s facedown.

                They fumble with buttons and zippers and it’s been so long but it still feels like it could be just another day on break from school. Jensen hears the tearing of a foil package and his legs are shaking but it doesn’t matter because Chris is holding him up, fucking him slow from behind until they find an easy rhythm.

                It’s been so long that it’s like relearning it from scratch, how his breath tears out of him when Chris sinks home and how it’s really close to being too much the whole time Chris is inside him. Jensen likes the heavy weight of Chris against his back, his slick chest, his arm wrapped around his waist. He takes Chris in deep and rocks back into him.

                The arm around Jensen’s waist squeezes him tight, pulls him against Chris’ body, as close as he’ll get to an explanation. There’s no ceremony about it. There doesn’t have to be. Their afternoon reunion had been as much foreplay as Jensen needed; this moment’s been coming for over a year.  

                Without saying a word Chris tells him that they can have this as long as he’s here. He’s been offering in the only way he has, a language made up of too-long glances and accidental brushes of hands over the dinner table.

                Chris comes and Jensen slips out from underneath him, pretending he’s going to finish himself off in the bathroom.

                “You okay?” Chris pants.

                Jensen nods and closes the door behind him. Instead, he waits and counts backwards from ten until he’s only half-hard. His hair is sticking up all over the place and he’s so, _so_ turned-on he needs to just walk it off. Letting go isn’t an option tonight, not when his head’s messed up and his heart’s hammering like this.

                It’s all too much. He can’t come. His legs are too weak and he can’t think of anything besides how swollen his lips look in the mirror.

                Chris’ eyes are closed when Jensen comes back into the bedroom and starts pulling on his jeans.

                “’S good to see you, Jen.”

                “Yeah,” Jensen smiles and means it when he says, “You, too.”

                The walk home takes five minutes tops but Jensen drags it out into twenty. He shivers and pulls his arms in closer to his body. He’s still flushed, the stale sweat on his body going cold from a gust of wind that rattles the few dry leaves on the trees overhead.

                His jeans don’t feel as tight though his knees are weak. He probably should’ve let Chris finish him, but all he really wants is space and maybe a few more drinks.

                The house is quiet when he gets home. Donna’s working a nightshift at the hospital. Jensen puts a pot of coffee on and takes a shower while he waits for it to brew. To his surprise, Mack’s sitting at the table when he comes back downstairs.

                “Don’t you have to be at school tomorrow?”

                She ignores him.

                “Where were you?” She asks.

                “At Chris’.”

                Mack’s still over a head shorter than him even though she’s definitely grown. She’s wearing plaid pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt with the constellations on it. Jensen got it for her from a science museum in Philly on a field trip back in middle school.

                Jensen gets a mug out of the cupboard.

                “Can I have some, too?”

                “You like coffee?”

                “Yes,” Mack wrinkles her nose at him. “I’m not a little kid, y’know.”

                “Okay, just checkin,’” Jensen puts his hands up. “Cream and sugar?”

                “Nope.”

                Jensen smiles at his sister and pours her a cup of Peet’s Sumatra. He can tell she’s holding back a grimace after the first sip.

                “Are you and Chris dating?”

                Jensen nearly chokes on his coffee.

                “I…uh…”

                “It’s okay. I don’t care.”

                “I know. It’s just, uh. No, I don’t think we are.”

                “What do you mean _you don’t think?”_ Mack demands.

                “I mean it’s complicated.”

                “How complicated can it be?” Mack rolls her eyes. “Either you like him or you don’t.”

                “Well, yeah, I like him. I guess.”

                Mack heaves a heavy sigh. She reminds him so much of Donna and Sophia at the same time it’s disconcerting.

                “It’s confusing. I know,” Jensen smiles. “How do you think _I_ feel?”

                “Does he like you back?”

                “Yeah. I think he does.”

                Mack taps her nails on the table and takes another sip of coffee.

                Jensen’s never spoken to his sister or anyone in his family about his personal life all that much. They know he’s friends with Chris at home and Sophia and Misha at school. Josh used to pick on him about girls, but he also had no idea that Jensen was too busy following the captain of the football team around to notice boobs his freshman year. As far as Josh knows Jensen’s got zero experience and has never seen boobs in his life. Of course, he also has no idea that Jensen’s got zero interest in boobs.

                None of them would give him a hard time about being gay, it’s just his decision to keep that part of his life private. Telling Mack about Chris is the closest thing to “coming out” he’s ever had.

                “But sometimes I don’t think that’s enough.” Jensen’s as surprised as Mack is when he keeps going. “I don’t really get him anymore. I don’t think he gets me, either.”

                “That’s stupid.”

                “Isn’t it?” Jensen says and empties his mug.


	9. Nine

_I was drunk again, causing accidents_  
 _Oh, you're not a friend,_  
 _You're nothing_  
 _I think I should be a little more confident_  
 _In myself,_  
 _In my skin_ ****  
  
  


After break ends, Jensen has to scramble to catch up with his homework. He spent a lot of time with Chris, catching up and watching more football than he has in the past three years. They don’t talk about the night they spent together and it kinda seems like everything will be okay after all.

                On his return, he finds Eldridge’s campus papered with fliers advertising Homecoming, which is being held at some swanky country club on the outskirts of town.

                Danneel corners him after third period, a purposeful gleam in her eye.

“Do you have a date for Homecoming?”

                “Uh, I wasn’t even gonna go.”

                “You’re going. And you’re going as my date, okay?”

                “Okay?” Jensen says, baffled. He had no idea they were even friends, let alone Homecoming date status.

                “Great. Buy something green,” Danneel says, patting him on the back and rushing down the hall. “Bye!”

                Jensen just stands there, blinking and wondering how so many girls are getting him to bend over backwards for them lately when he’s not even straight.

                *****

                “So, I’m assuming you’ve heard?” Sophia asks him as she sets her tray down at breakfast.

                “Heard what?” Jensen mumbles, pushing his glasses up his nose. He was up half the night working on an essay for Dinwiddie. He’d emailed Jared the results and got it back with a dozen different suggestions for improvement, none of which Jensen had pulled off very well. He gave up around four.

                The toast tastes like little more than cardboard and he’s at the point of exhaustion where coffee can’t keep him awake and only gives him the shakes.

                “About Homecoming?”

                “I’ve heard that we’re having Homecoming, yes.”

                “And do you know who’s _going_ to Homecoming?”

                “Danneel already beat you to the punch. I’m escorting her under threat of getting my ass kicked.”

                “I’m not trying to ask you to go with me,” Sophia scowls. “I’m asking if you know that Padalecki’s going with Genevieve.”

                “He’s wha?” Jensen asks, spraying his plate with crumbs of toast. “Sorry, that was gross.”

                “He asked Genevieve last night. She tweeted about it.”

                “Was it like, ‘omg hot boy asked me to homecoming I’m so shocked wow! Hashtag blessed?’” Jensen asks.

                “When did you get to be such a bitch?” Sophia asks with an eyebrow raised.

                “Call it post-break stress,” Jensen shrugs.

                “Are you okay, though?”

                “Why wouldn’t I be?”

                “I mean about Padalecki.”

                “What?” Jensen laughs. “It wasn’t like we were gonna slow dance the night away just ‘cause I’m sucking his dick.”

                “Jenny,” Sophia says, reproving. “You don’t have to talk about it like that. I know you like the guy.”

                “Sure I do,” Jensen shrugs. “I like Brad Pitt too, but I’m not heartbroken he’s not taking me to a dance.”

                “Whatever,” Sophia sighs and butters a piece of toast. “Sorry I brought it up.”

                “It’s not a big deal,” Jensen says with another shrug. “I mean I knew he was hard for her or whatever.”

                “You’re being exceptionally crude this morning.”

                “Long night,” Jensen grunts.

                The fact is, yes, he’s pissed that Jared’s going with Genevieve, but if it wasn’t her, it’d be some cheerleader or one of his eight hundred groupies. Jared was never going to ask Jensen, and even if he had, Jensen probably would’ve laughed in his face. Necking at a Halloween party is one thing, but school dance dating is a level of horrible Jensen’s not sure he can handle.

                Whatever. He’ll just look his best and make sure Jared hasn’t forgotten why they have the arrangement that they do. 

                *****

                Chris calls that night while Jensen has his Geology textbook cracked open on his desk.

                “Plans for next weekend?” Chris asks. Jensen can make out the country music in the background and cringes.

                “Homecoming.” He sighs and rubs his eyes.

                “You? Going to Homecoming?” Chris sniggers.

                “Believe me, it wasn’t my idea.”

                “Well, what d’you say I pick you up after and we watch bad TV at my place? Maybe you can stay the weekend.”

                “I just saw you,” Jensen says before he can stop himself.

                “You sick of me already?”

                “No, I mean, I don’t usually come home all that often.”

                “You could always stay at my house,” Chris suggests, his voice low.

                “And tell my mom we’re having a weekend-long sleepover?”

                “Why not? We used to,” Chris says.

                “Yeah, when you were in _high school_.”

                “Yeah, yeah. Hey, I forgot to tell ya—I’m looking into getting my own place downtown. Maybe you could help me scope out a good apartment. Come to some open houses with me.”

                “Maybe, yeah,” Jensen says.

                The line’s quiet for a moment and Jensen wonders if he’s said something wrong.

                “Look, Jensen. If you don’t wanna see me, I get it. You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”

                “No, it’s—it’s fine. It’s not you. I just have a lot of work here, you know how it is.”

                “Yeah, I remember,” Chris says.

                “I’ll come over after the dance, okay? We’ll work out the rest after that.”

                “Great. Pick you up at midnight?”

                “Yeah,” Jensen says, wiping his palms on his khakis. His hands are shaking a little and he’s not at all sure of what he’s doing, only that he’ll be damned if he’s sleeping alone this weekend while Genevieve Cortese isn’t. 

                *****

                Jensen’s never been this drunk before. It usually takes two screwdrivers and he’s seeing double, so the whole whiskey thing is kicking his ass in an awesome new way. 

It’s Eldridge’s Homecoming at what’s probably the swankiest country club in the state. It’s not a big deal for him since he’s not involved in sports, but Danneel’s on his arm and they both look hot and he’s having a decent time. Danneel’s dress is deep green, cut asymmetrically. She told him while she was straightening his tie that his matching vest brought out his eyes.

Danneel put him to shame when it came to pre-game Jack and Cokes and still managed to walk in heels and hold him upright when they walked past the administration. If he was straight and Sophia hadn’t beaten any kind of remotely sexist joke out of him, he’d call her wife material right then and there.

Chad’s come to the dance “stag,” meaning he couldn’t find anyone desperate enough to go with him. At the moment, he’s harassing James over by the punch table, telling a story and making gestures that only make it more obvious how wasted he is.

Sophia’s not far off, cruising James from a distance. Jensen knows the look in her eye.

He’s doing some cruising himself because Jared looks fucking fantastic in a suit and that red vest is—

But Jensen’s not going home with Jared tonight. Gen might be, although she might just lose her glass slipper on the stairs and drive home in her pumpkin coach instead and maybe that’s a little bitchy of him to think.

How Jared managed to score a date with Genevieve, Jensen will never fully understand. She might as well have a waiting list for all the guys who are trying to get in her pants.

Objectively, they look perfect together— Jared tall and every inch the American boy next door to Genevieve’s easy sophistication. She’s perfectly sober, clear eyed and smiling when Jared leans down to talk into her ear. There’s never a time when they aren’t surrounded by crowds of adoring idiots, all desperate for the queen’s attention and eager to kiss up to the future king.

Thankfully, Danneel snuck a flask inside in her clutch and she keeps Jensen floating pleasantly all night.

Chris is set to pick Jensen up at midnight and his stomach’s already tightening at the prospect. They’re going to fuck again, he knows it, and maybe this time he’ll stay the night. He’s drunk enough that it sounds like a good idea.

“You okay, Ackles?” Danneel asks.

“Mhmm,” Jensen mutters, resting his head on her shoulder. She smells good, like fruity shampoo and crisp perfume.

“You sure you don’t need to take a breather?”

“’M good,” Jensen assures her. He likes the way the lights and the bass are pounding together. The room slows before his eyes.

Whenever Gen starts talking to one of her friends, Jared’s eyes dart back to him. He can feel it, whether or not he acknowledges it.

                Danneel sure as hell acknowledges it.

“What’s going on with you and Padalecki, anyways?”

“Stuff,” Jensen shrugs, smiling.

“What kinda stuff?”

“Good stuff. Sometimes. Sometimes he’s an asshole. Me too, though.”

“Yeah, I’ll agree to that one,” Danneel says drily. “Is he going to… uh, y’know? With Gen?”

“Oh, I dunno. He likes her. More than me, maybe.”

“I was, um, hoping she’d want to come with me,” Danneel says.

Even drunk, Jensen gets that she’s not talking about as friends.

“Oh,” he says again, suddenly serious. “Ohhhh.”

Danneel blushes and looks towards Chad and James instead of Genevieve and Jared.

She squints. “Where’s Chad’s other hand…?”

“Huh?”

Jensen turns to look. James looks a little red in the face but that’s probably from annoyance at getting stuck with Chad.

“Never mind. Thought I saw something,” Danneel shakes her head.

Jensen doesn’t know what to say. He’d wondered about Danneel, but figured it was none of his business and that she’d tell him if she thought it was.

“I mean, there’re other… Genevieves in the sea, right?”

“I guess so,” Danneel smiles weakly.

It’s worse because Jensen can’t lie to her and tell her Jared will treat Gen right. Jared’s an asshole most of the time. Not like Jensen’s any better or in a position to judge but he figures it takes one to know one and all that.

“I fucked Chris Kane,” Jensen blurts. It’s way too much info to share with someone he only met a few weeks ago but sharing a secret of his own seems like the right thing to do. Besides, it’s been eating away at his insides ever since he got back to school.

Danneel’s eyes widen.

“Seriously? Didn’t have you pegged as the type.”

What the hell does that even mean and why has he heard it _twice_ now from two different people?

“Yep.”

“What about Padalecki?”

                “Y’know how there are those people in your life that are like…” Jensen waves his hand in the air, searching for the words. “Like really… just _great,_ like really great.”

                “Yeah, great,” Danneel nods.

                “And then,” Jensen’s having a hard time holding his head upright. “There are those people who are like…”

                “Awesome,” Danneel says.

                “Yeah. You got me.”

                “Yeah, I got you.”

                Danneel is cool. Like really fucking cool. He should spend more time with Danneel.

                “Like, what are you supposed to do when you’ve got someone _great,”_ Jensen slurs, “and someone _awesome_ at the same time?”

                “Do them both,” Danneel says as if it’s obvious.

                “I am,” Jensen nods. “Butwhat if they get weird?”

                “I dunno, which one’s better?”

                “Well, like, Jared and I have this thing, right? But then Chris and I had a thing a long time ago and he’s all fucking perfect, and Padalecki’s got _her_ now, so…”

                “Are they looking at us?” Danneel asks abruptly.

                Jensen glances surreptitiously in Jared and Genevieve’s direction. Jared’s leaning low and Genevieve’s standing on tiptoes, talking into his ear. Jared’s eyes flick towards Jensen’s corner as he listens and Jensen makes a big show of being engaged in conversation with Danneel.

                He grimaces as he swallows his vodka and punch in one gulp. It’s gross but it’s keeping him in a good mood and that’s all he cares about.

                “You wanna dance?”

                “You bet your ass,” Danneel grins at him, leading him by the hand to the floor.

                Jensen really has no idea how to dance but Danneel leads and he mostly just sort of sways around in time to the music, closing his eyes against the flashing lights when they get to be too intense.

                Danneel leans into his chest during a slow song, her arms low around his waist.

                “God, if we were straight, we’d make such a good couple.”

                “I know, right? Like, fuck them,” Jensen says in the general direction of Jared and Genevieve.

                “Fuck ‘em,” Danneel nods.

                It’s not like Jensen wants to dance with Jared cause that’d be lame. He’s so not into that kind of shit. But yeah, he looks really good and Jensen’s close enough to see how his eyes light up when he talks to Genevieve.

                The music picks up again and Jensen’s snapped back to reality. He hates about eighty-eight percent of the people in the room and he’s watching the guy he’s supposed to be “seeing more of” hanging all over a beautiful girl and he can’t even hold it against him that much.

                He stalks over to the chairs at the edge of the room and Danneel trails sullenly in his wake.

                Probably the worst part about the whole night is how Jared picks Gen up at the end of the last song, twirling her around with a big, stupid grin on his face that makes Jensen want to drown himself in the punch bowl or maybe even the fondue fountain. Genevieve’s crimson dress flutters around her like a tongue of flame and they look like something out of _Seventeen_ magazine.

                “I can’t be _twirled,”_ Jensen whines to Danneel. “Like he can’t fucking _twirl_ me.”

                “Wha?” She rests her head on his shoulder.

                “I mean I didn’t think that was a _problem._ Shows what I know.”

                The lights flick on and there’s a collective groan from what seems like everyone except Jensen and Danneel.

                “Fucking _finally,”_ Danneel grunts, standing up and stretching. “Thanks for coming with me, Jen.”

                “No problem.”

                She casts another glance at Genevieve. “I’m just glad this horror show’s done so I can drink myself into a coma.”

                “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

                Jensen wraps his arms around her, hugging her tight. He’s a little surprised by the rush of fondness he feels when the smell of her hair fills his nostrils.

                “You good?” He asks.

                “Yeah, I’m going to catch a ride with Cohen to the lacrosse party off-campus.”

                “Be careful,” Jensen says. “If you need anything, text me.”

                “Why, so you can drunk dial me back?” Danneel says wryly.

                Jensen ignores her question. “I’ll be with Chris, so we can come get you, okay?”

                That’s when he notices Jared cutting a swath through the crowd, standing out over everyone. He’s heading straight for him.

                “I gotta go. Have a good night,” he says quickly, pressing a kiss to Danneel’s forehead and turning on his heel.

                “Ackles, wait up!”

                He pretends he can’t hear Jared calling him and speeds up, determined not to let Jared see how sloppy and drunk he is. He’d probably think it was because of _him_ and that’s so far from the truth Jensen can’t even begin—

                “Jensen!”

                He shoulders through the country club’s double doors and spots Chris’ rusted red and white Ford pickup almost immediately.

                He wouldn’t put it past Padalecki to chase him through the parking lot and he’s grateful when the sound of Jared’s footsteps fade out and Jensen can only hear his own.

He sees his breath on the air and hurries to the passenger side. He doesn’t bother to look over his shoulder. He already knows Jared’s watching.

He doesn’t care.

He climbs into Chris’ truck, his foot almost slipping. He smiles sheepishly at Chris and settles in, carefully not looking back towards the sidewalk.

“Are you…?”

“Yeah,” Jensen pants, rubbing his hands together to warm them up and laughing. “Yeah, I’m really drunk.”

Chris smiles slow and sexy in the way that used to make the cheerleaders line up at his locker.

“C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Chris puts the truck into “drive” and Jensen catches one last glimpse of Jared on the sidewalk in the red vest Jensen had admired on him earlier that night, his hands hanging limp at his sides as though defeated.

*****

Jensen’s been trying to maul Chris for the last hour or so, giggling and reaching out to him.

“Just fuckin’ kiss me, okay?”

“Wait,” Chris says. “Just wait til you can see straight again.”

He makes him drink a lot of water and wraps him up in a fleece blanket and Jensen’s crazy about him, over the fucking moon, Jared still left behind on the curb as far as he’s concerned.

“You’d twirl me if you could, right?”

“What?”

“If I was a girl and we were dancing, you’d like pick me up and do all that cute shit, right?”

“Sure, Jen. I’d do that for you no problem.”

“See _that’s_ why you’re the best. You’re the best.”

Chris smirks. “Thanks. You’re pretty awesome too.”

Jensen settles his head in Chris’ lap and dozes off for a little while, coming in and out of consciousness to catch snippets of bad late night movies.

He’s finally awake by the time _Top Gun_ starts and Jensen reaches up to brush Chris’ long hair back from his face.

The gesture surprises him as much as Chris, whose eyes go wide and Jensen starts to feel self-conscious.

Chris clears his throat. “Does your mom know you’re staying over?”

“Mmhmm. I texted Mack.”

                “’S good. That’s real good. So I have you all night?”

                Jensen nods and his heart skips a beat.

                When he first came back, Chris had said something about a girlfriend. But why should that be Jensen’s problem? Chris is the one who’s cheating (Jensen squirms at the thought of being the other woman), if you could even call it that. Stopping this probably would be the right thing to do. And then there’s the whole Jared issue, which is probably over now. Jared has Genevieve.

                So when Chris leans in and kisses him like Jensen always hoped he would, he’s not thinking about right and wrong all that much.

                *****  
               

                Jensen rises early in the morning, stopping back in at his house to change his clothes and brush his teeth. His mom nodded at him over her morning coffee and newspaper, and Jensen thanks the powers that be that she has no idea what he really does at “sleepovers.”

                He feels a little guilty for not telling her the truth, but it’s eclipsed by the fact that he basically has a free pass to spend as much time at Chris’ as he wants.

                When he gets back to Chris’ place, he’s sitting up in bed with the sheets around his waist. Jensen flushes and glances out the window. This is seriously happening to him—this whacked out, maybe-relationship with the guy next door.

                “Mornin’,” Chris yawns.

                “Hey.”

                Jensen sits at the edge of the bed, thumbing through a _Sports Illustrated_ issue that had been lying on the floor. He tenses momentarily when he feels big hands on his shoulders but relaxes. He breathes in the scent of Chris, sort of sleepy and warm.

                “You wanna do something today?” Chris asks.

                “Like what?”

                “I dunno, I thought maybe you’d wanna do something that didn’t involve my bedroom for once.”

                “I guess that’d be nice,” Jensen says, smiling slightly. “You gonna get dressed?”

                “If I have to,” Chris sighs, pushing the blankets back and stretching.

                Jensen averts his eyes back to the magazine.

                “You shy all of a sudden?” Chris asks, his weight shifting off the mattress as he gets up and pads to the bathroom.

                “Guess so.”

                Chris laughs and the sound of the shower stonewalls the conversation.

                Jensen’s phone vibrates in his pocket, and when he checks the screen, the contact is nameless—just numbers.

                Jared.

                _Answer your door asshole._

Jensen hesitates.

                He could just tell Jared he went home. But he saw the truck, maybe saw Chris driving it. Besides, what would he gain from lying? He’s not doing anything wrong.

                _Seriously, you pissed at me or something???_

The shower shuts off and Jensen glances back down at his phone.

                _Not at school,_ he texts back and shoves his phone back into his pocket, ignoring it when it vibrates three seconds later. 

                *****  
  
                Chris takes him on what can only be described as his version of a date. The cynical part of Jensen wonders if this is a _thanks for the sex_ date, but he’s also having a good time anyways.

                They get cheesesteaks in town and Chris brings a six pack along in his truck. They eat at a picnic bench down at the lakefront, sipping Sam Adams and watching the ducks paddle through the water. Chris is talking about a gig he played in Atlanta, when he and his band had gotten into some kind of bar brawl.

                Jensen’s only half-listening, nodding at the right times and laughing at what he guesses are supposed to be the funny parts.

                His phone stays silent, but he’s thinking about Jared anyways.

                He’s being overdramatic by ignoring him, but what the hell had he been thinking, running after Jensen like that after spending the whole night with Cortese? He doesn’t need Jared to soften the blow or anything. If they’re done, they’re done. He can handle it, he’s a big boy. He’s got options.

                Besides, everything between them had only started out of convenience. There was tension and it had to be resolved sooner or later, and now it was. They were both free to move on. A locker room blowjob is hardly a healthy start to a relationship and Jensen almost snorts out loud at the memory of getting caught by Matt, making out on Jared’s bed. It’d always been temporary and they both knew it.

                “You’ve got that look on your face,” Chris says, jerking Jensen out of his thoughts.

                “What look?”

                “The homework-boner look.”

                “What?”

                “Y’know, the one you get when you’re studying and enjoying it in that really weird, sick way?”

                Jensen frowns at him. Chris laughs and puts his empty bottle back in the six-pack.

                “Seriously, you okay?”

                “Yeah, I am,” Jensen replies, looking out over the greenish-blue water. “Just thinking about some stuff I left unfinished at school.”

                “It’s the weekend,” Chris says. “Relax for once, it won’t kill you.”

                “Kinda feels like it might,” Jensen says, finishing the dregs of beer in his bottle. He already feels heavier than normal and he’s only had two.

                They sit in silence for a while before Chris starts talking, his eyes intent on Jensen, who can’t look at him.

                “I know I left you here waiting and that was stupid and selfish and I’m sorry. I know there’s only so many times I can say it, but I mean it.”

                Jensen just nods. There’s no way to tell Chris what’s been going on in his life lately, no easy way to tell him he’s wrong.

                Yeah, he’d waited, in a way. He hadn’t dated anyone, hadn’t even looked sideways until this thing with Jared started. And he hadn’t meant for it to start, anyways.

                He’d pretty much just stuck his head in the sand—in this case, his school work. He’d been too busy to ever think about getting involved. He hadn’t wanted a relationship. He still doesn’t, yet here he is, nodding and yes-ing to everything Chris has to say because it’s easier than trying to explain how he really feels.  

                “Is that it?” Chris asks.

                “Yeah,” Jensen says. “I mean, I dunno what I’m supposed to say.”

                “Nothing,” Chris says. “I was thinking you’d tell me that this isn’t a shot in the dark, that maybe you even missed me a little.”

                Jensen almost laughs.

                “Yeah, I missed you.” He looks Chris in the eye. “But what about that girlfriend you mentioned?”

Jensen hates himself for bringing it up, but he’s already got a full plate of bad karma coming his way in the near future so might as well get it all out at once.   

“It’s not… It didn’t work out. Besides, I’m staying here, so…” Chris says, a pleading note entering his voice.

“So?” Jensen prompts.

                “Look, I’m here for real now and I wanna keep doing this.”

Chris pops the cap on another beer. “Throw me a bone here, Jen. I have no idea what you’re thinking and I know you. Something’s up.”

Jensen wants to say, _No,_ _you_ don’t _know me. Not anymore._ He knows the stupid little things about him like his perfectionism, his anal retentive tendencies. Nothing else.

He can’t fathom for a second why someone like Chris Kane would want him around, especially after years apart. He’s nice, funny, and considerate for the most part. He’s been Jensen’s dream guy since they met, and now he’s saying that he wants Jensen, too. But why now?

Jensen looks at Chris and meets his blue eyes again. He knows he should forgive and forget. He can do the first, but not the second. He’s only human, and not a very good example of one at that.

                “I’m not mad at you, Chris.”

                Chris nods. “Thanks.”

                It’s not a lie, but the words still don’t sit right on his tongue.

                “You’ve changed,” Chris says, his head cocked slightly to the side.

                “I got taller,” Jensen shrugs.

                “Not that. You’re… different, somehow.”

                Different because he doesn’t laugh at every joke Chris makes. He doesn’t try to make conversation when there’s silence—all things Jensen did as a freshman. Maybe he’s not as likable, but he’s not really that kid anymore.

                “I guess so,” Jensen says. “It’s been a weird couple of years since you left.”

                Chris nods. “That school wears people down. I remember it. But y’know, Jen, there’s so much more after it.” He takes a swig of beer and continues, “When you’re in high school, you feel like that’s all there is.”

                “You sound like someone else I know,” Jensen smirks ruefully, thinking of Misha. He never thought Chris Kane and Misha Collins would have something in common. “So what else is there?”

                Chris shrugs. “There’s playing music. There’s barhopping. There’s getting your own apartment. Sex.”

                “Think I’m getting some of that anyways.”

                “True,” Chris says. “It’s hard to explain. But you’ve only got another year anyways.”

                “Yeah,” Jensen says, leaning against the old wooden table and trying to ignore the way his stomach twists the same way it does every time Chris implies he won’t understand something because he’s too young. Chris is definitely starting to make him feel that way.

                Clouds start to gather on the horizon as they sit in silence and they make it back to the truck just before it starts raining.

                The calm warmth of the cab in the storm brings back more flashes of memory, of after school trips when Chris would take him to the Dairy Queen two towns over so Jensen could get a Blizzard with graham crackers after a particularly stressful day of class.

                Thinking of those little expeditions makes Jensen’s heart swell, but then he remembers watching Chris in the hallways, always surrounded by teammates and admirers. He’d wave to Jensen and they’d talk sometimes between classes, even though over breaks they spent almost every day together. He remembers how his stomach tightened every time he caught a whiff of Chris’ cologne, and how he’d wanted him so badly he felt sick when he stared up at his ceiling at night.

                He’d been different then, like Chris said. He’d focused on Chris the way he focuses on school now. And maybe that’s why he came back, looking for that same devotion from him. But Jensen can’t feel that way anymore, maybe because he’s grown up, maybe because he’s afraid—either way, it’s gone.

                When he looks over at Chris, his brow furrowed as he drives through the rain, he feels a faint tug in his chest. Jensen had missed him, thought about him almost every day.

                And yet, he can’t seem to ignore the other tug in his gut that’s pulling him in the opposite direction—back to school. Back to Jared.  
 

                *****

                Jensen decides to go home that night, assuring Chris that he just needs some space. He wants to sleep in his own bed and spend time alone. He wants to think without having to lie to anyone or himself.

He’s sitting on his bed with his phone in his hand when Jared’s number flashes across the screen.

                He lets it go for a while, but picks up on the last ring.

                “Hello?”

                “Hey.”

                Jared’s voice sounds tentative, like he’s testing Jensen’s reaction before he keeps going.

                “What’s up?” Jensen asks, coolly. In truth, he’s kind of relieved to hear Jared’s voice. Especially without the hotshot lacrosse player tone he usually has. He didn’t think he’d call at all.

                “I just wanted to—are you okay? You’ve been dodging me since Homecoming.”

                “Yeah, I’m fine.”

                “Okay,” Jared says. “So, uh, what’s up?”

                “I’m at home.”

                “Cool. How’s your mom?”

                “She’s good.”

                “That’s good.”

                “Yeah.”

                “Yeah,” Jared repeats. He sighs. “Look, Ackles, I get that I’ve been kinda flaky lately, but—”

                “Just kinda?” Jensen asks.

                “Okay, I’ve been a dick. But I—I wanted to see you today.”

                “Well, sorry I’m not at your beck and call every time it’s convenient for you.”

                “That’s not what I meant,” Jared says. “I’m sorry, okay?”

                “Why would you be sorry? You got the girl, you got the grades; your life’s back on track now, right? You can stop messing around with the twinky tutor and get on with being Jared Padalecki.”

                “It’s not like that,” Jared says.

                “Then how is it?”

                “I like you, Jensen. I don’t want you to hate me.”

                “I don’t hate you.”

                “Yeah, you do.”

                “Maybe a little,” Jensen admits. “But seriously, I’m not—I’m not _jealous_ or anything.”

                “I know. I was gonna offer to drive you back after Homecoming but I saw you already had a ride.”

                “Yeah, I—my neighbor from home picked me up.”

                The line’s quiet for a minute.

                “When you coming back?”

                “Monday,” Jensen says.

                “Can I see you?”

                Jensen considers. Just hearing Jared’s voice again makes his stomach go tight with heat. He really needs to learn how to control himself again. His dick’s making his life really complicated.

                “Yeah.”

                Jared exhales on the other line. “Look man, I don’t mean to pry, but is there someone…?”

                “Are you seriously going to ask if I’m seeing someone?”

                “Are you?” Jared asks calmly.

                “I—Not that it’s your business, but yeah, maybe.”

                “The neighbor you were talking about?”

                “Yeah.”

                Jared’s quiet for a minute. “How long have you been seeing him?”

                “He just came back. He was away and things were kinda left up in the air between us.”

                “Hang on,” Jared interjects. “It’s not—is it _Kane?”_

                “It is,” Jensen says. “You got a problem with that?”

                “No, I mean… I just didn’t think he’d come back.”

                “Yeah, well, me neither.”

                “Are you guys—?”

                “We’re not anything,” Jensen says. “We’re just hanging out.”

                “Like playing Xbox hanging out or—?”

                “Jared,” Jensen starts, working to keep his tone civil. “Don’t ask, okay? Not when you and the Prom Queen are doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

                “We’re not—”

                “I don’t want to know,” Jensen cuts him off. “I’ll see you when I’m back at school, alright?”

                “Sure, Jensen,” Jared says. “I’ll see you then.”

                “Great,” Jensen says.

                “Great,” Jared repeats.

                Neither of them hangs up.

                “Jensen?” Jared asks after a few moments’ silence.

                “Yeah.”

                “I mean it. I’m sorry.”

                It’s starting to feel like “Inadequate Apology to Jensen Day.” Maybe he should mark it on his calendar.

                “You don’t have to apologize to me for liking Gen. I get it.”

                “I should’ve told you I was going with her.”

                “Well, we didn’t end up buying the same dress so it all worked out in the end.”

                Jared’s silent for a whole minute before he says, half-laughing, “I’m going to kill you, I swear to God.”

                Jensen can’t help grinning into the phone.  
               

                *****

                Chris helps him pack his stuff into the trunk of his Corolla, their hands brushing every time Jensen passes a bag off to him.

                Chris is taking more liberties than usual, his hand lingering on Jensen’s waist when he maneuvers around him and not hesitating to put his arms around Jensen every chance he gets—loading Jensen’s hamper into the trunk from behind him, pinning Jensen between his body and the car.

                And Jensen—Jensen chews the inside of his cheek. He can’t keep this up, not with the way Chris is grinning like his birthday’s come early.

                He’s already come clean to Jared. It only makes sense that Chris has the same amount of disclosure.

                “I’ve been seeing someone, too,” Jensen says abruptly.

                Chris stops in his tracks with Jensen’s laptop bag slung over his shoulder.

                “It’s not… I mean, we’re not dating, or anything, but I thought you should know.”

                Chris sizes him up. “So who is… he?”

                “He, yeah. His name’s Jared. He’s my age.”

                “Jared who?”

                “Padalecki. He’s from Eldridge.”

                Chris doesn’t seem to recognize the name. His shoulders roll back.

                “How long you been seeing him?”

                “Not long.”

                Chris nods and looks away. “Okay. So…”

                “So, yeah. I mean it is what it is, right?”

                “Yeah,” Chris says. “It is.”

                Jensen waits for him to keep talking, waits for him to say what he wants. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything about “them,” even though he’s had plenty to say about it all weekend. Jensen’s half amused and half exasperated and a little bit relieved, too. He isn’t angling for a fight and he’s not ready to have this one yet.

                “Anyways, I’ll be back in a few weeks for vacation. Maybe before then, we’ll see.”

                “Yeah, cool. I’ll see you then,” Chris says, clapping him on the back. Suddenly he’s being a lot less handsy. “Take care of yourself.”

                “Will do,” Jensen nods and gets in his car, waving to Chris and backing out, leaving Suddard Street behind him.

                And yeah, Jensen likes Chris, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t get a small twinge of satisfaction being the one to watch him disappear in the rearview mirror. 


	10. Ten

_Hate will keep us together_   
_Love will tear us apart_   
_What has joined us in the dark_   
  
_Oh I was warned_   
_I would drive you away_   
_I felt the same_

Jensen’s been back at Eldridge for only an hour before his phone vibrates on his nightstand. He doesn’t have to guess who the text is from.

_Your room in five?_

_I’m not your booty call,_ Jensen sends back. Which, when he thinks about it, he actually kinda is.

_Ten then???_

He doesn’t bother with a response but Jensen isn’t the slightest bit surprised when Jared shows up at his door exactly eight minutes later.

“Hey Ackles.”

Jensen had meant to play it cool, to make Jared work back into his good graces but the second he hears Jared’s voice his reservations melt away.

Jared brushes past him into Jensen’s dorm, their shoulders knocking gently. Jensen closes the door behind him and turns to face Jared.

“How was your weekend?” Jared asks mildly.

“Fine,” Jensen shrugs. “How was Homecoming?”

“Fine,” Jared says in the same tone, smiling slightly, teasing.

Jensen’s not thinking about Genevieve or Homecoming or watching _Top Gun_ and he hasn’t forgotten what Chris said to him but Jared’s unknotting his tie, tossing it to the corner of the room before sitting on the desk chair and kicking his feet up on Jensen’s desk. It takes all of two seconds for him to fill up Jensen’s space.

“C’mere,” Jared beckons him. Once Jensen’s close enough, he pulls him sideways onto his lap. Jensen leans down for a kiss, an innocent meeting of lips that melts and turns hungry.

Jensen’s stomach hums, urging him on. He rights himself so that he’s facing Jared, straddling him.

They kiss for a second time, Jensen pushing his hands into Jared’s chest.

“Shirt off. Now,” Jensen growls.

Jared’s surprise turns into a smile. His fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt, his gaze locked with Jensen’s. He shrugs out of his Oxford and the white fabric pools on the floor beneath them.

Jensen catches Jared’s lips again, cupping his jaw to set up a better angle and he’s pushing inside Jared’s mouth, licking into the wet heat and Jared gasps, breaking the kiss so he can breathe.

Jensen’s never wanted anyone or anything like this. He’s reduced to a single throb of _need._ His entire body aches for something, anything, and it’s like Jared can read his mind when he says “You’d fuck anyone like this, wouldn’t you?”

No one sees past Jensen’s bullshit exterior; no one’s ever been able to weather the storm of his sarcasm and defensiveness long enough to see how much he _wants_. The fact that Jared has turns him on and pisses him off at the same time.

Truth is he’d fuck Chris, he’d fuck Jared, he’d fuck Jared’s hot roommate at the moment; he’s not too picky.

“Yeah,” Jensen gasps, hips jutting forward to get some friction against Jared. He nods over and over. Pain stabs through his chest and stomach as he pants harder, his thighs shaking. “Yeah, but I want you.”

Jared watches him struggle with his foxish eyes cutting Jensen to the bone. If he touches him, Jensen’s brain is going to short-circuit.

But Jared doesn’t so much as reach forward.

“Your move, Ackles.”

Jensen fumbles for Jared’s zipper and has his cock out in a matter of seconds, jerking him off with quick strokes, space limited by how close together their bodies are, Jared’s hips undulating into Jensen’s sloppy rhythm.

“Here,” Jared mumbles and helps Jensen shed his uniform jacket. His shirt’s still on and he’s in too much of a rush to bother taking it off. He undoes his belt and rocks into Jared while Jared’s hands slide into Jensen’s khaki’s to cup his ass. Jensen groans and arches back into Jared’s grip. Jensen wonders if this is it, if after all this buildup, today’s the day he’s going to get so wrapped up in Jared they’ll cross the last line between them.

In the end they don’t have sex, but Jensen doesn’t have any complaints because Jared brought lube and a few ideas of his own.

He slicks his fingers and fucks Jensen slow and deep with them, a tight burning drag of hot friction. Jensen hisses between his teeth, steadying himself by bracing a hand on Jared’s shoulder.

Jared smiles and tells him he’s gorgeous. He’s out of breath, getting off just as much as Jensen is as Jensen catches his mouth, desperate and hungry. Jensen loses himself in the heat, closing his eyes and tasting Jared, still jacking him off with hardly any coordination. He moves his hips back and forth on Jared’s fingers, chasing the feeling of _too much_ that Jared gives him. He bites down on the muscle between Jared’s throat and shoulder, Jared going limp underneath him.

Jared comes in Jensen’s fist but doesn’t stop or relent. He lets Jensen ride his hand at his own pace with Jensen’s teeth still sunk into his skin. He keeps bringing Jensen right to the edge, Jensen’s entire body tensing and clamping down on the two, then three, back to two fingers inside of him, before pulling out and interrupting his rhythm, slowing it down again and giving Jensen another build-up. He kisses Jensen’s neck, under his chin and his jaw.

Jensen’s nearly sobbing by the end of it. “C’mon, Jay, _please_.”

“Almost.” He wraps his free hand around the base of Jensen’s cock to keep him from coming.

“ _Jared,”_ Jensen hisses, his eyelids snapping open.

Jared grins, knowing that Jensen’s loving every second of it. There’re some definite perks to being “friends” rather than just bitching at each other.

Jensen’s legs are too weak to keep the pace so Jared picks up the slack, plunging faster and harder, the tips of his long fingers sometimes brushing that spot inside him when he gets the angle just so, making his legs cramp with building pleasure. Jensen’s back to biting down on Jared’s shoulder and rutting against him because he _can’t_ hang on, the heat in his stomach washing over him in waves.

“You wanna come, Jen?” Jared’s breath brushes over his throat, hot and stuttering.

Jensen groans and Jared takes that for the “yes” it’s meant to be. He jerks Jensen off clumsily with his left hand and Jensen’s shirt ends up sticky and ruined, Jared’s shoulder absorbing the sounds pouring out of him.

They collapse on Jensen’s bed afterwards. Jensen tugs on Jared’s sweaty hair and lets Jared grab and handle him as much as he wants, his thick fingers digging into his flesh contrasting with the almost shy kisses they share. Jared moves from Jensen’s sides to grabbing his ass, Jensen arching into his grip. Jensen sucks on Jared’s bottom lip, bites his jaw. Jared whimpers when Jensen’s hands work him back into half-hardness.

Being with Jared is different now. Jensen can’t help comparing him to Chris and how different he himself is with each of them.

Chris is one of three people Jensen trusts. But Chris doesn’t know anything about him anymore—all he knows is the virgin he ditched after graduation. He doesn’t know what Jared’s managed to figure out about Jensen in a few short months.

Jared lights him up from the inside with just a touch or a well-timed glance. Even lying next to him like this has Jensen itching in his skin all over again. He’s not hard enough to go a second round, but he needs to do _something._

Jensen goes down on Jared, sucks him slow until he recovers then swallows him down. Jared laughs and squeezes his eyes shut with his knuckles white on the bedposts. Jensen takes his time, knowing Jared’s still sensitive. The taste of his precome fills Jensen’s mouth and he swallows it easily.

When Jared comes for real it’s a lot weaker than the first time but his sleepy moans are worth it. He arches up off the mattress, panting Jensen’s name.

“Ackles, you gotta let me go,” Jared groans. “Have mercy.”

“Fine,” Jensen heaves a dramatic sigh and rolls off Jared so he can use the shower.

Jensen cleans himself up with a wet washcloth and pulls on a hoodie. He slips outside to smoke one of Sophia’s Marlboro Lights, his legs aching and the odd, stretched feeling in his ass persisting. It’s straight out of a bad movie; sitting on the dormitory steps with a cigarette dangling from between his lips while his private school butt buddy’s busy washing come off himself.

Jensen’s boneless and sleepy, leaning against the cement steps behind him and letting his eyelids flutter shut. In a far-off sense, Jensen acknowledges he should feel totally satisfied— Jared’s done more for him than any of his other awkward hookups. He got off, his muscles are loose and content. Still, his gut churns, too-light and empty.

The taste of Jared’s on the back of his tongue with the flavor of the tobacco. He’s _hungry,_ even after all of it. Wants more. Not fucking, he doesn’t think, just… more of everything. More of Jared.

The past few months, Jensen’s been so many things to so many different people he’s having a hard time sorting them out and keeping them straight. Most difficult of all is reconciling them to himself. He never would’ve begged like that with Chris, would’ve been too embarrassed.

He finishes his smoke, stubs it out on the pavement and swipes his student ID card through the scanner to get back into the dorm.

Jared’s toweling his hair dry and nods at Jensen when he closes the door behind him. He’s only got his pants on, his feet bare and the rest of his clothes a bundle on the floor where they fell next to Jensen’s desk chair.

Jensen sits back down on the bed, avoiding the wet spots. He huddles deeper into his sweatshirt and leans against the headboard. He feels way too young for whatever this is, ashamed at how desperate he’d been earlier.

The whole time he and Jared have been jerking each other off and whatever else, Jensen’s been conscious of a line. First they didn’t kiss. Now they don’t fuck. He’d so badly wanted to blur that line today, wanted everything Jared had to give and then he thought he might take some more. He wanted to offer himself in every single way for Jared to use in return and he’d get on his knees and beg for it.

But now that it’s over he can’t quite meet Jared’s eyes. Part of him wishes Jared would take his shit and leave, wishes he wouldn’t call for a while. The rest wants to pull him right back into the tangled sheets and make him stay the night or maybe the week.

Jared’s right here, so close to him, and he’s still never felt farther away.

They don’t say anything and Jensen watches Jared as he collects his belongings. He doesn’t acknowledge that he’s being stared at.

Today’s the first time in a while things feel awkward between them, like there’s something he’s supposed to say, only Jensen can’t figure out what and Jared seems to be waiting for it.

At long last, Jared buttons his shirt and shakes his wet hair out, his bag slung over his shoulder.

“See you tomorrow?”

Jensen doesn’t look at him.

“Yeah. See ya.”

Once Jared’s gone, he turns his phone over in his hands again and again, chewing his bottom lip. He should take a shower but there’s something nagging at the back of his mind.

He settles for calling Sophia and she picks up on the last ring, out of breath.

“Hello?”

“Do you want to get something to eat? I’m having an, uh, issue.”

“God, yes,” Sophia groans. “I was just about to start this new yoga video. I’ll pick you up in five.”

 

*****

  
They settle on the diner a few blocks off campus which is cheap, though generally pretty awful. The pancakes are hit or miss, sometimes incredible and other times mushy, undercooked globs. Once, when Jensen was a sophomore, he’d been daring and ordered the banana pancakes at three in the morning and his risk-taking was rewarded with a steaming plate of fluffy, wonderful banana goodness for four bucks. He hasn’t been that lucky since.

“Chris Kane is _back?”_ Sophia covers her mouth with a hand, but that might be because she almost spit a piece of pancake out at the news.

“Yeah, and he plays guitar now,” Jensen says drily, waving his hands in a mock cheer. The pancakes are okay tonight—edible, at least, and that’s all he cares about.  

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, like touring band and all.”

“Wow,” Sophia says, taking another bite of her food. “What happened to football?”

“He still plays, I guess,” Jensen shrugs. “Just not like, for real. He’s still obsessed with it anyways.”

“So what happened?”

Jensen lets out a long sigh and stares at the TV behind Sophia. The news is broadcasting something about a local Fall Festival and his eyes linger on the captions so he doesn’t have to look at his best friend.

“We fucked. Twice.”

“Jenny, what the fuck? Why do I always find out about these things like, two years after they happen?”

“Because I’m an idiot and I never expect _these things_ to happen until they already are and then I wonder what the hell just happened.”

Sophia nods and takes a sip of chocolate milk. “So, was it everything you remembered?”

“I left right after he got off the first time. The second time I was drunk and it was after Homecoming.”

“So, I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jensen asks, wounded.

“I mean he was never there for you, Jen. Not like he should’ve been.” Sophia raises an eyebrow. “You really gonna tell me that’s the kind of relationship you always wanted with him?”

“No, it’s not. But I wasn’t planning on him coming back, and the second he did it was like—like if I didn’t do something, he’d slip away again.”

Something shifts in Sophia’s expression and Jensen looks away, blinking hard and turning his attention to stirring creamer into his already watery coffee.

“So what now?” She asks, voice soft.

“I feel like I should know what to do. But I don’t,” Jensen admits. “I don’t have a clue.”

“No gut feelings?”

“Plenty. They just change every thirty seconds or so.”

Sophia surprises him by reaching across the table, her fingers brushing the back of his right hand, which is still clutching his spoon.

“I’m sorry, Jen.”

“I just—I liked him a lot. I still do, even though I know I probably shouldn’t.”

“I know you do. What about Padalecki?”

“I, uh, saw him today,” Jensen says.

“And?”

“And we messed around. And the thing is, it’s just _different_ with him, you know?”

“Sure,” Sophia nods. “Maybe different is what you need right now.”

“Maybe,” Jensen concedes. “But I don’t think it’s what _he_ wants.”

“You mean because of Genevieve?”

Jensen nods.

“Well, from what I hear, they’re not all that serious,” Sophia shrugs. “He dropped her off after Homecoming, didn’t even bring her to the party at Steve’s house.”

“Really?” Jensen asks, leaning forward in spite of himself.

“Yep. He just hung out with the team and drank ‘til he puked on Mrs. Carlson’s antique lampshade.”

Jensen snorts. “My hero.”

Sophia smiles wryly. “But really, Jen, maybe he just needs some time to figure things out. Maybe he’s confused, too.”

“Or maybe he’s not gay and he’s going to ditch me for Genevieve eventually anyways.”

“You don’t know that,” Sophia says, jabbing her fork in his direction.

“Really, what does he have to gain from all this?”

“A very hot piece of ass,” Sophia says, her fork buried in her pancakes again. “And maybe it’s not about _gaining_ anything. Maybe he just likes you.”

“Maybe.” Jensen looks down at his plate.

Somehow, the idea of Jared “just liking” him doesn’t make things any easier.

 

*****

 

Jensen’s in history class on Tuesday when he catches his mind turning circles around Jared. He’s at least more interesting to think about than popes and schisms. Once they got to the bit with Europe having more than one pope at a time, Jensen had started staring out the window.

Then again, he thinks about Jared pretty much all the time these days.

It makes sense to keep things as they are. Calling it friends with benefits seems a stretch, because they don’t really fit into each other’s lives properly. They’re forcing everything else to fit around the fact that they can’t keep their hands off each other.

They hardly hang out, and usually bring out the worst in each other when they do. He’s not sure how long he can toe the line that runs straight through the territories of “too much” and “too little.” Because right now, he’s thinking about all the things he’d let Jared do to him— _ask_ him to do, if things weren’t so complicated.

Regardless of how open things are between them, sending a text with _Do you want to fuck me yes or no????_ in it seems a little too forward.

It’s all the other stuff that’s got his head spinning because even if he sent that text, it’s not the question he’s really asking. It’s more about the knot in his stomach. If he can keep it, let it unravel a little more every time Jared touches him the way it has been for months.

Jared brings out a side of him he didn’t know he had. With a cutting word or a skimming of fingertips, Jensen ignites. He’s a raw nerve exposed for the first time under those clever hands. But once he’s gotten his head back, he’s always ashamed of letting his defenses fall so easily. Of course he’s addicted to it, to the shock of letting go and getting off in any way he can when his whole life has been about keeping his cool.

He doesn’t need Jared. Jared’s not good for him. But he likes what they do, how they move together and what Jared has to say about it all.

It’s true that messing around has made things between them more than a little confusing. Jensen doesn’t plan on letting it go any time soon, even if he’s starting to worry about how impatient he gets waiting for Jared to show up at his dorm.

Plus, since Homecoming, Jared and Genevieve have started holding hands in the hallway.

It’s infuriating for the sole reason that Genevieve probably has no idea what Jared gets up to in his spare time and she’s parading him around like a prize Saint Bernard. Jared doesn’t seem to have any problem playing the part, content to trot on Genevieve’s leash and be shown off to all her senior girlfriends.

It’s worse because no matter how obnoxious they are, Jensen still can’t call them out. He’s wrapped around Chris’ finger just as much and it’s not like their situation is any more wholesome.

 He and Sophia make jokes about it, but he knows Sophia only does it to make him feel better. She likes Genevieve and probably thinks she and Jared are a good match; better than he and Jared are.

And deep down, Jensen knows it too.

               

*****

 

That Friday, Sophia calls him.

“Pizza and drinks tonight?”

“Please,” Jensen says, grateful.

Sophia shows up half an hour later with a cheese and pineapple pizza and a bottle of Tanqueray in her purse.

“Damn, where’d you find this?” Jensen asks, impressed.

“My mom never even noticed when I swiped it over break,” Sophia says, obviously pleased with herself. “I mean, not like she would with the way my parents stock their bar. Got the soda and limes in my bag, too.”

“You’re amazing,” Jensen tells her.

“Oh, I know.”

“I’ll get ice from the kitchen.”

They settle in with a greasy slice and a drink each and Jensen puts _Fellowship of the Ring_ on his laptop.

“Is this the extended edition?”

“Please, do you even know me?”

“Awesome,” Sophia says through her mouthful of cheese. “How’s Chris?”

“He’s okay. I think he’s looking for a place downtown.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Jensen takes a sip from his cup. “I’m just not sure how he feels about this whole thing.”

“I wouldn’t worry about how Chris feels if you still don’t even know how _you_ feel, Jen.”

Jensen nods. It’s a fair point.

“He knows you’re seeing Jared still, right?”

“Yeah. I dunno if he cares.”

“I’m sure he cares. I mean, he cares about you, even if he’s got a stupid way of showing it.”

Jensen shrugs. He’s not sure about anything when it comes to Chris. As for whether or not he’s jealous, he hasn’t given any indication in the slightest.

“Yeah. I mean if we’re fucking and I’m messing around with Jared, too, I mean, that’s kinda wrong, isn’t it?”

Though it doesn’t really _feel_ wrong to him. It feels like balance.

Sophia cocks her head to the side. “I don’t think so. Not really. Not if things aren’t defined, y’know?”

“Yeah. I mean, they’re not on any side. I don’t know what I am to Chris and Padalecki’s sorta… I dunno.”

Sophia smiles. “So what _do_ you know?”

“I know I like Chris. I like Jared. But it’s different.”

“And what if one of them asks you to make a choice?”

“Chris,” Jensen says automatically. “I think.”

Sophia nods. “You guys have history. It makes sense. And who knows, maybe he won’t suck as much this time.”

Jensen frowns and pushes his glasses up his nose. “I dunno if I want history. I just… I know Chris, and I know how things work with us. It’s sorta easy.”

“Is it though?”

“Don’t go all Oprah on me.”

“Seriously, Jen. He makes it more complicated than it has to be.”

“Yeah, but so do I,” Jensen protests. “I could call him out and I don’t.”

“So why don’t you?”

“Because,” Jensen starts to say, “I, uh…”

“Because it’s _not_ easy. Because you’re afraid of what he’ll think.”

Jensen throws up his hands. “Okay. You win. But I don’t want to have to choose. I don’t think I can.”

“You think they’ll let you off like that?”

“Maybe.” Jensen watches as Frodo pulls Sam up into the boat.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Jared’s got Genevieve and Chris has the whole adult-with-a-job thing going for him right now.”

“I know. I don’t want to think about it right now.”

“I don’t blame ya.”

Sophia grabs another slice of pizza. “So, on to Two Towers?”

“Yes please,” Jensen nods and grabs the bottle of gin to mix himself another drink.

Danneel shows up halfway through the battle at Helm’s Deep and Sophia ends up giving her a pedicure while they talk about the girls’ soccer team’s prospects.

“Seriously, I think you guys could go to state,” Sophia says. She has remarkably steady hands considering how much gin she’s had. Not a streak of navy blue gets on Danneel’s skin.

“Maybe. That’d show the shitheads at this school, wouldn’t it?” Danneel muses aloud.

Sophia scoots back and Danneel stands up and admires her handiwork, wiggling her toes.

“Ooh, sparkly,” She grins.

“That’s a good color for you,” Sophia nods. “What do you think, Jen?”

“Huh?” Jensen sits up straighter.

“He’s just dreaming about Viggo,” Sophia says solemnly.

“Shut up. It looks good, Danneel.”

“Thanks, Jenny.”

It’s past midnight when the three of them end up slumped on Jensen’s bed with their legs tangled and hanging off the edge, getting up only to refill their drinks.

It’s been Jensen and Sophia (and sometimes Misha, but never often enough to bother calling him—they know he’s wrapped up in a project) for so long that he’d never imagined adding a third to their dynamic, but it works well. Danneel’s easy to talk to and smart and funny.

Jensen’s phone vibrates in his lap. He glances up at his friends surreptitiously. Sophia and Danneel are having a heated debate about Éowyn and Arwen.

As he suspected, the text is from Jared. _What’re you doing tonight?_

Jensen considers ignoring it. He really has no reason to talk to Jared and vice versa.

He’s still holding his phone in his palm when his phone vibrates a second time. _I want to see you. Please?_

Jensen sighs and starts typing. _Since you asked so nicely. But not now._

_Text me later?_

Jensen doesn’t reply.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Jared—his heart skipped a beat as soon as he’d gotten the text. But it’d be easier if he didn’t. He wants to spend the night with his friends and not worry about anything except whether he’d rather be an elf or one of the Rohirrim.

“…Yeah but she kills _the Witch King,_ I mean, come _on,_ that’s so badass.”

“Yeah, true, true. And she gets with Faramir which is pretty sweet.”

“If you’re into that,” Danneel says, wrinkling her nose. “Personally I think she and Arwen probably should’ve ditched the rangers and gone for each other. Just sayin’.”

“I could get behind that,” Sophia nods. “But like I wouldn’t say no to Aragorn.”

“Neither would I,” Jensen agrees.

“We know _you_ wouldn’t,” Sophia says, throwing a pillow at him and almost knocking his cup over. “Whoops!”

“Quick, Ackles. FMK: Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas.”

“Hmm,” Jensen scratches his chin. “Well like Boromir’s already dead, right?”

“No, this is hypothetical,” Danneel says matter-of-factly, her eyes half-closed. “Like if everyone survived.”

“What about Éomer?” Jensen asks. “I just want Éomer.”

“Ugh, this isn’t fair. Gays have so many options in this series. I’ve only got two.”

“They’re still pretty good options, though,” Jensen says.

Sophia chooses that moment to nestle herself between the two of them, drunk enough to enter her cuddly stage but still a few steps away from make-out-with-everyone stage.

Danneel’s text tone rings from her bag and she sits up, frowning as she reads the message. “I gotta go. Gen needs— yeah. I’ve gotta get going.”

“Is it Padalecki?” Sophia asks, shooting Jensen a look. He ignores it.

“Probably. Or Welling,” Danneel replies. “She’s kinda in between both of them at the moment.”

Jensen’s just tipsy enough to not be able to hold in a snigger.

“Not like _that,”_ Danneel scowls. “Honestly.”

Danneel hugs the two of them and dashes out the door, leaving Jensen and Sophia sprawled out on Jensen’s bed. The movie’s still on in the background but Jensen’s mind is a million miles away from Middle Earth.

“I miss you,” Sophia says into his shoulder, her voice muffled.

“I’m right here.”

“No, you’re not.” She sits up, frowning. “You haven’t been in a long time.”

He sits up, too, giving his phone a guilty glance. He wonders if she knows he’s been talking to Jared since she got here. “I know. It’s just, things are sorta complicated right now.”

“I thought it’d be good to catch up, y’know, but it’s not like it used to be. I mean before, we never _had_ to catch up. It was always just us and Mish.”

He notices that she doesn’t seem upset with Misha, but then again, no one ever is.

“I just—I’m worried about you, Jensen. This isn’t like you. I haven’t seen you like this since Chris left.”

“Like what?”

“You barely talk to me anymore and when you do, it’s only because you’re freaking out or something. And Danneel’s not any better.”

“This must suck for you, huh?” Jensen gives a weak attempt at a smile. “All your friends have gone psycho over each other and you’re stuck dealing with all of us.”

“You, Danneel, Gen, and now Padalecki, too,” Sophia says with a sigh.

“Jared talked to you?” Jensen asks, sitting up straight. “What’d he say?”

“Oh my _God,”_ Sophia groans.

“Sorry. But really, was it about me?”

“How ‘bout you just _call_ him, since I’m sure he’s texting you right now anyways.”

“Why would you think that?” Jensen shifts guiltily.

“Because,” Sophia says, in a tone riddled with annoyance. “You’ve been looking at your phone every three seconds and Genevieve was texting Danneel. They’re obviously fighting.”

“You’re like, scary good at this.”

Sophia shrugs and gets up from his bed. “I’m gonna get some sleep. You wanna meet for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Sounds good. Take care, Soph.”

“Yeah, you too,” she says with an eyebrow raised. “And use protection.”

Jensen chucks a pillow at her, narrowly missing her back as she closes the door.

  
  
*****

 

As soon as Jensen opens the door, Jared practically launches at him. He grabs Jensen’s shirt in his fist and pulls him in close before remembering to check himself.

“Is this okay?”

Jensen nods warily and Jared smiles. He leans in to kiss him tentatively.

Jensen’s tension melts away and he sighs into Jared’s mouth, rememorizing the taste of him and trying to find the right way they fit together. He’s still a little drunk and Jared’s tongue takes over, delving deeper into his mouth and claiming it all for himself.

Jared moans softly with his chest shifting under Jensen’s palm. “Sorry. Things have just been kinda crazy lately.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Jensen mutters.

“Family stuff, y’know? Nothin’ I can do about it while I’m here at school, but…”

“Yeah,” Jensen says, his face growing hot when he realizes his hand’s still on Jared’s chest. He moves it away, stepping back to let him in.

He picks an ice cube out of his empty cup and pops it into his mouth, watching Jared.

“Can I… can I stay over tonight? I mean, just on the floor.”

Jensen nearly chokes on the ice cube. “Uh, yeah. I guess. If you want.”

Jared nods with his eyes downcast, walking past Jensen to sit on the bed. He drops his backpack between his shoes, making him look like the world’s hugest, most adorable teenage vagrant.

Jensen finally notices that his eyes are red, like he’s been rubbing them a lot. Or maybe crying. The thought of Jared Padalecki _crying_ over his family is too weird for him to handle.

“Are you… are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright,” Jared says quickly, looking away.

Jensen nods, unsure of what else to do. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Jared says. “There’s nothing to say. My parents called, they’re pissed at me and each other and I’m in deep shit this summer. End of story.”

Jensen sits cross-legged on the floor. “That sucks.”

“I, um, brought a bottle. I know you don’t drink much but…” Jared pulls a bottle of peach Schnapps out of his backpack.

It’s true, Jensen never used to drink like this but he’s already half-drunk anyways. “Good idea,” he says.

Jared pours two cups and slides down to the floor to sit next to Jensen. He clinks his cup against Jensen’s and knocks his drink back.

“Did you piss off Cortese or something? Is that why you’re here?”

Jared looks up at him.

“We had a small fight, yeah. But no. That’s not why I’m here.”

Jensen nods. He probably shouldn’t believe him, but he does.

They drink in silence, and Jensen lets his knee touch Jared’s, then his thigh. He scoots closer until they’re pressed up against each other and he can feel Jared breathing.

“I need this,” Jensen says, abruptly. The thought’s only just occurred to him. His lips move around the words; he didn’t mean to say them and he hates them until Jared nods. His eyes are hazy.

“Me too.”

“I want you,” Jensen says. “And, like, I don’t know what you’re thinking or what you want, but…”

Jared winces almost like he’s in pain, his eyes scrunching shut.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Fuck, no. Don’t be sorry,” Jared breathes. “I just, I know what you mean.”

Jared lifts the bottle to Jensen’s lips for him and he gulps down another mouthful of booze, shivering with the burn of it. The alcohol trickles down through him, scorching and giving him a pleasant warmth in its wake.

Being drunk and this close to Jared makes him feel like he’s splitting in two and stitching himself together at the same time.

“It’s like we’re misfiring,” Jensen says. “Always on a different page.”

“Yeah,” Jared nods. “I know. I wish things were different.”

There’s so much Jensen wants to say to Jared. He wants to let it gush out unfiltered and make Jared understand the flood in his brain. _I wanna fuck you I wanna keep you here I wanna leave you I wanna watch you suck me off I wanna make you happy I wanna slow things down wanna never stop wanna kiss you every single goddamn day—_

But Jared’s got Genevieve and Jensen’s got Chris and nothing’s working out the way it’s supposed to. He’s not supposed to want anything from Jared anymore and instead he wants it all.

Jensen presses in closer to Jared, angling Jared’s face towards him so he can kiss him. Jensen pulls on Jared’s lower lip, surprised to feel Jared giving in to it, going pliant.

He gets to his feet, pulling Jared with him and crowding him against his bed, their mouths joined and Jensen’s hands roaming up Jared’s shirt.

Jared’s hand reaches down to cup Jensen’s cock through his jeans. He gasps into Jared’s mouth.

“Jensen, can I—?”

Jensen whimpers in the back of his throat but his muscles have gone tense, screaming at him to put some distance between the two of them before he gives in to the _want_ tearing his belly to shreds.

Jared pulls him in tight, turning Jensen around so that his body molds to Jensen’s back. 

“Please,” he murmurs against Jensen’s neck.

Jared’s heat burns through his thin t-shirt and into Jensen’s skin. Jared’s mouth is on his jaw, his soft, shallow breathing giving him goose bumps.

He thinks about how Jared would feel inside him and closes his eyes again. This isn’t the time or the place. Jared’s upset and Jensen’s tipsy and confused. He wants Jared to do it, but he’s not sure of anything else, of how he’d feel in the morning.

Jensen shakes his head minutely and Jared pulls back, nodding. He sniffs and turns puffy hazel eyes on Jensen. The blue in them is extra bold against the bloodshot white.

“Sorry. I know.” Jared pushes his hair back from his face.

Jensen walks a few steps away from him and sways before steadying himself on the desk.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” Jared starts to say.

Jensen shushes him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jared sits back down on the floor and Jensen unbuttons his shirt and lets it drop at his feet. He takes off his belt, Jared’s eyes on him the whole time. He stretches out on his bed, lying on his side so he can look down at him.

“I don’t have any ones, if that’s what you’re expecting.” Jared croaks.

“Shut up,” Jensen smiles. “Just getting comfortable. Shirt’s itchy.”

Jared fills his cup again with alcohol and some of the soda Sophia left behind and they watch _Return of the King_ in silence for a while.

“So what were you fighting about?” Jensen asks. He’s too drunk to care that he’s being nosy.

“Stupid stuff,” Jared says, his eyes fixed on the screen of Jensen’s laptop. “Sandy, of all things.”

“Why?”

“She’s pissed at Sandy for talking to Tom behind her back, but they’re still friends, kinda, and I dunno,” Jared says, wrinkling his nose. “It’s stupid. I told her Sandy wasn’t worth her time and she got pissed at me.”

“Well, yeah, they’re friends.”

“Then she went off on this whole thing about how _I_ haven’t been there for her either, not since Homecoming.”

“You’ve been busy, though,” Jensen says sleepily. On the screen, Pippin’s riding to Minas Tirith with Gandalf.

“Yeah, I have,” Jared grunts. “And now my parents are on my case like crazy, too.”

“Is it true you puked on an antique lampshade?” Jensen asks, unable to hold his laugh in all the way.

“Guilty,” Jared grunts. He looks surly for a moment before his expression crumbles into a sheepish grin. “It was really gross.”

Jensen snorts and they fall into a comfortable silence, watching the movie for a while before he asks, “so why’d you come here?”

Jared clears his throat, his voice low and rough and he’s at least a little drunk. “Because you were the first person I wanted to see.”

“Because you thought I’d jerk you off?”

Jared scoffs. “You know it’s not like that.”

And Jensen suddenly does know. He has friends at Eldridge that he cares about and trusts, but when it came to staying the night and seeking comfort, he couldn’t deny that Jared’s dorm would be high on his list if their situations were reversed.

The booze is keeping him warm from the inside and Jared’s gaze brings a slight flush to his skin. He changes the subject.

“Your parents—what are they like?”

“Hardasses, when they’re actually around. My dad’s starting to take an interest in casinos so he’s been on the east coast and in Vegas a lot lately. I mean, my mom isn’t really _that_ hard on me when my dad’s not there. She lets me get away with a lot of shit. Just not stuff like failing class.”

Jensen nods and Jared continues. “My mom’s whole family are Duke graduates and my dad went to Princeton so there’s just a little bit of pressure on me.”

“I know the feeling,” Jensen says. His mom wouldn’t ever be disappointed in him, but all he’s ever wanted is to make her proud and impress her, and impressing Donna Ackles is no easy feat.

“So, now that we’re telling the truth, how about a dare?” he asks.

“Huh?”

“Truth or dare. Pick one.”

“You can’t play truth or dare with two people.”

“You wanna bet?”

Jared chuckles. “Alright, Ackles. You first.”

“Okay, truth,” Jensen says. “What do you wanna do right now?”

Jared’s lips quirk at one side. “This isn’t helping.”

“It’s not supposed to,” Jensen says. “So humor me.”

“Um, making out some more wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Then maybe I’d blow you. It’s been a while,” Jared says at the ceiling.

“That’s a good start.”

“From there, it’d be hard to choose. I kinda wanna get your legs up on me and fuck you. That’d be good.”

Jensen rubs his stomach without meaning to and toys with the button of his jeans.

 “Think I’d like you on your hands and knees, too. You’d look so good.”

Jensen smiles at the ceiling.

“I like you drunk, Jen. I like when you wanna talk like this.” Jared’s eyes are on him again, no hint of embarrassment. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Jensen says.

“How come we’re not doing all the stuff I just said?”

Jensen hesitates. He doesn’t really have a good answer. He keeps telling Jared he can’t, he _can’t,_ but how long can they skirt around it? It’s just sex, and not even Jensen’s first time.

But he’s only just gotten used to Chris being around again. Their first night back together had been a reminder of how much sex sucker punched him when he wasn’t ready for it. And then there’s the part where no matter what he and Jared have done, he can’t seem to wrap his head around the idea of being that close with anybody besides Chris.

“I don’t think I can do all that just yet,” Jensen says, finally.

Jared nods. “’S fine, Ackles.”

His shorts are hanging low on his hips and Jensen’s eyes linger on his flat, tan stomach.

“So, truth or dare?” Jensen asks.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to finish that bottle,” Jensen grins.

“That the best you got?”

Jared sits up, his hair flopping back around his face while he knocks the bottle back, draining it in two swallows. He grimaces a little but licks his lips slow and obscene.

“Alright, Ackles. Truth or dare?”

“Da-aaare,” Jensen singsongs.

“I dare you to let me take pictures of you on my phone right now.”

“What?” Jensen giggles.  “Why?”

“Wank bank,” Jared says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jensen snorts.

“No, seriously. You look… there’s something about you tonight,” Jared says, crawling on hands and knees to get closer to Jensen’s bed. “Please?”

“Okay, yeah,” Jensen says, blinking sleepily. “As long as I don’t have to do anything.”

“Just lay there and look pretty,” Jared says, getting to his feet with his phone in his hand.

“My specialty.”

Jared laughs and doesn’t disagree.

Jensen closes his eyes, trying not to be too self-conscious about the fact that Jared’s looming over his bare torso even if Jared’s seen him like this half a dozen times or more.

Maybe it’s the booze or just the way the night’s going, but instead of the shyness he expected to feel, the heat in his stomach makes him bold.

He undoes the button on his jeans one-handed and Jared’s breath catches. Jensen’s eyes are still closed and he imagines how Jared might be biting down on his bottom lip, the shutter sound of Jared’s phone camera making him imagine Jared in snapshots like the ones he’s taking.

He hooks his thumbs in his belt loops and pushes his jeans down a couple inches, revealing the wiry hair on his lower stomach and his hip bones. 

_Click._

Jensen smirks, covering his eyes with his hand.

“I feel like Paris Hilton.”

_Click._

“You’re hotter,” Jared assures him, voice tight.

“Yeah?” Jensen asks, arching his back off his bed a bit.

Jared gives what sounds like a muffled groan in response.

_Click._

Jared’s hand cups his hip, his thumb running over the curve of bone.

Jensen swats his hand away without opening his eyes. “You didn’t say anything about touching.”

“My bad, I’ll keep my hands to myself,” Jared says. “I mean, _you_ don’t have to, though.”

“Hmm, is it my turn to dare you yet?”

“Sure.”

_Click._

“Okay, how ‘bout keeping your hands on yourself and letting me watch?”

Jared blinks. “You serious?”

“What do you think?”

“Okay,” Jared says, exhaling. “But only if you give me a money shot.”

Jensen sighs dramatically and pushes his jeans down further. He covers his eyes again.

“I swear, if these get around…”

“Relax, they’re for personal use only,” Jared laughs.

 “I’m serious. If I see my dick anywhere besides that phone I’m gonna throttle you.”

“Scout’s honor.”

Jensen hikes his pants back up and opens his eyes. His lids are heavy and maybe he’s had a little bit too much to drink.

“Your turn,” he tells Jared.

“Gimme a sec,” Jared says, sitting on Jensen’s desk chair. He bites his lip and Jensen smiles slow at him, taking his time with his zipper. Jared watches the whole time.

“Talk me through it.”

“You want me to talk to you while you jerk off?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m not gonna tell you what a big cock you have or some shit, just saying.”

Jared grins, slipping a hand down the front of his gym shorts. “That’s okay. I already know you like it.”

Jensen rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Just get on with the show.”

Jared bites down on his lip, his hand moving steadily in his shorts.

“Pull ‘em down,” Jensen orders.

Jared looks at him with his cheeks flushed and obeys.

He leans back against the chair in just his t-shirt and boxer-briefs, the shape of him clear through the cotton. There’s a damp spot soaking through the dark gray fabric and Jensen can’t look away. The wave of heat that washes over him is relentless, starting somewhere in the balls of his feet and up through his calves and thighs and cradling warm in his gut.

Jared rubs himself through his boxer-briefs at first, eyes fixed on Jensen, which has him all but squirming where he sits.

“Go on,” Jensen says, his voice thick.

Jared bites down on his lower lip.

Just then, Jensen’s ringtone blares and his phone vibrates on his desk.

“You gonna get that?” Jared pants.

Jensen shakes his head, knowing it’s Chris.

“Pick it up,” Jared urges, his hand trailing lazily over the bulge in his underwear.

Jensen hesitates for a moment then reaches for it.

Jared smirks.

“Hello?” Jensen says.

“Hey man, it’s me.”

“I know. What’s up?”

“Kane?” Jared mouths.

Jensen nods.

Jared’s smirk gets wider and his hand moves more firmly over his cock. He’s not seriously going to—

“Just wanted to hear your voice, I guess,” Chris says. His words come out slow and sticky and Jensen thinks he’s not the only one who’s had a few drinks tonight.

“Well, you’re hearing it,” Jensen murmurs, having a hard time focusing on the conversation because Jared’s mouth is hanging open, his back arching against the chair as his hand slips down the front of his boxer briefs.

“What’re you up to?”

“Not much,” Jensen says, swallowing. “Just watching some TV.”

“On a weekend when you have homework? That’s unlike you,” Chris says, teasing.

Jared moans low, slipping his underwear down and wrapping his fist around his dick. Jensen’s struck again by how attractive he finds Jared. He’s never considered himself all that sexual but his mouth’s watering just from looking at Jared’s cock, big and blood-flushed.

Jensen bites his lip. “Yeah, I know. I’m just kinda drunk and tired, you know.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Watching anything good?”

Jensen chokes out a laugh. “Yeah, really good.”

Jared smiles which turns into a grimace when Jensen locks eyes with him, licking his lips and nodding. Jared’s breathing is getting louder, more ragged as thick, white precome beads at the head of his dick. Watching him fuck his own fist is almost more than Jensen can stand.

Jensen gets up off the bed and takes a few steps towards Jared, watching him with the phone still in his hand. He angles the receiver away from his palm and towards Jared and stares straight into his eyes. They’re hazy and charged with heat, his gaze unwavering. Jensen studies the swirl of yellow and blue and green that forms a kind of starburst around his pupils. He loves the way they slant slightly, made sharp and cunning with the angle of Jared’s cheekbones.

 “Sounds like porn,” Chris says sleepily.

“It might be porn,” Jensen says, still looking at Jared.

“Good porn?”

“The best I’ve seen in a while.”

Jared whimpers softly and Jensen takes another step towards him.

“You getting off?” Chris asks, his tone shifting slightly, his voice getting rougher.

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “I’m definitely getting off.”

Jensen cups Jared’s chin with his left hand and Jared bites down on his lip to muffle the noises he can’t seem to stop making.

“It’s one of those exhibitionist porns, you know like in public?” Jensen says.

“Sounds hot.”

“It is,” Jensen agrees. “The guy’s pretty cute. Bit of a twink, though.”

Jared rolls his eyes at him but doesn’t stop or slow down. Jensen strokes Jared’s jaw and Jared presses his lips to the pad of Jensen’s thumb. Jensen’s stomach glows with pleasure and he’s hard, wanting to give in when Jared reaches for his belt but he slaps Jared’s hand away.

“I think he’s close,” Jensen says.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. I think he’s gonna come all over his stomach.”

“I don’t really watch gay porn.”

Jensen represses the urge to laugh. Typical jock. He’ll fuck a guy but won’t admit to watching gay porn. Funny, since he sure seemed to know what he was doing every time they’d had sex.

Instead he just says, “You should. You have no idea what you’re missing.”

Jared raises pleading eyes to Jensen and Jensen nods, cupping the back of Jared’s head and wrapping his fingers in his hair. Jared’s face is really close to his crotch. Jared licks his lips and presses his face into Jensen’s stomach, inhaling the smell of him and closing his eyes, still biting down hard on his lip.

“Yeah, he’s about to blow his load,” Jensen says.

Chris says something on the other end of the line but it’s drowned out by the shuddering groan that pours out of Jared, whose tanned stomach is splattered with thick come. He collapses against the back of the chair, his chest heaving.

Jensen drags his pointer finger through the warm mess, spreading it around on Jared’s stomach, Jared’s body trembling underneath his touch. 

“Sorry,” Jensen says. “What was that?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chris laughs. “I’ll call you tomorrow when you’re less distracted.”

“Sounds good,” Jensen says. “Bye, Chris.”

He hangs up and looks down at Jared, who’s still panting open-mouthed.

“Jen—”

Jensen lifts his finger to Jared’s mouth and Jared hesitates for a fraction of a second before taking it between his lips, sucking the taste of himself off Jensen’s hand. Jensen runs his other hand through Jared’s hair, smooth and soft against his skin. Jared sighs, contented, pressing his hot cheek to Jensen’s stomach.

“That was…” Jensen begins.

“Nice,” Jared says, voice muffled as his breath tickles Jensen’s skin.

He laughs, pulling Jared back by the hair. “That tickles.”

Jared grunts in protest, reaching around to put his hands on Jensen’s ass to pull him in closer again.  “Really wanna—”

“Want to what?” Jensen teases.

“Please, can I… can I at least suck you off?”

His mouth is level with Jensen’s zipper, mirroring the night in the locker room when Jensen had been on his knees for Jared.

“Y’know, for a straight boy, you really love dick,” Jensen says.

Jared shrugs but doesn’t say anything, his mouth still set in a determined line.

“Maybe tomorrow, okay? I think I’ve had a little too much to drink.”

It’s not a lie—the room is blurring more and more around the edges and he needs to chug some water and get to sleep. He’s horny, yeah, but more disoriented than anything.

He gets down to Jared’s level for a moment to kiss him and Jared’s hungry for it, submitting when Jensen gets a hand on his shoulder.

Jared nods weakly when they break apart, getting to his feet and retreating to the bathroom to clean up. He runs the shower and by the time he comes out, Jensen’s already under the covers with only his bedside lamp still on. He’s lying close to the edge of the mattress.

 “Here’s a pillow and blanket for you,” he gestures to the makeshift bed on the floor and Jared obeys, curling up on the carpet. Jensen had considered letting him sleep in his bed with him, but thought it wouldn’t be a good idea in case he had to get up to pee in the middle of the night ten times, as was usual when he drank. Besides, Jared being roughly ten feet tall, he might want his own space and the twin would only fit both of them if they spooned the whole night.

Jensen turns the light out and closes his eyes. He lies in the dark for a while, then drops an arm off the side of his bed. His fingers find the soft, damp mess of Jared’s hair and he keeps them there until he falls asleep, Jared’s heavy breathing steady in the quiet.

  
*****

 

Chris calls him again the next night while he’s doing reading for Dinwiddie’s class. They talk about Jensen’s classes and Chris asks when he’s coming home again.

It still gives Jensen goosebumps to think what he and Jared did the night before when he picks up the phone.

“I’m not sure. I’ve got a lot of homework.”

“You sure it’s homework keeping you there?” Chris asks, his tone neutral.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jensen asks, rubbing his eyes. He really doesn’t need this right now.

“You haven’t returned my calls for a while, is all.”

“I know, I’ve been meaning to. You know how school here gets.”

“Yeah, I do. I just wanted to make sure we’re still on the same page. I’m thinkin’ maybe it’s time I met this Padalecki kid.”

“It’s not… I mean, I don’t think—”

“What?” Chris laughs. “It’ll be fine.”

“I just don’t think you guys would get along, that’s all.”

“You think I’m gonna try to protect your honor or something?” Chris asks. Jensen can practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

Jensen’s not actually sure he has a lot of honor left to defend anyways, but Chris doesn’t know that.

“What’s he like?” Chris asks.

“Uh, well, he plays sports and he’s tall, and stuff.”

“Okay, then. We’ll have a pickup game at Eldridge, like old times. I’ll call up some of the guys from the team and we’ll see what happens, eh?”

“Chris, I don’t—”

“It’ll be fine,” Chris assures him. “Just a friendly game. I wanna know the kid you’ve been spending so much time with.”

Jensen bristles. “Look, Chris, I really don’t think this is a good idea and I don’t know why you’re going all macho all of a sudden.”

“You really need to relax, Jen,” Chris laughs.

“You know what? Maybe you two _will_ get along,” Jensen mutters. “If I get told to ‘relax’ one more time, I’m gonna—”

“What? Beat me up?” Chris says.

“You better watch yourself. I know where you sleep.”

“Yeah, but you sleep there too.” Jensen can hear the grin in his tone.

“Whatever,” Jensen says. “If you wanna have your little macho pissing contest, go for it. Don’t expect any special treatment.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I mean that he’s still my… friend, too.”

“Right,” Chris grunts. “Anyways, I’ll swing by Eldridge after I take the dog to the vet. Sound good?”

“Sure,” Jensen says. “Whatever you want.”

“Saturday, around noon?”

“Can’t wait,” Jensen says and hangs up before Chris can say goodbye.

He rubs his eyes and chucks the paperback across his room, falling into bed with a huff.

This weekend is going to fucking suck.

 

*****

 

There must not be anything else going on at Eldridge on Saturday, because there are a good dozen or so people hanging around the stands when Jensen arrives wearing a hoodie and jeans against the morning autumn chill.

Jared’s on the sideline, talking to Katie Cassidy when he catches sight of Jensen. He jogs over, wearing a white and blue Cowboys jersey and a grin.

“Hey, Ackles. Hope you don’t mind I invited some people to watch.”

“Whatever. This wasn’t my idea,” Jensen grumbles. He’s just noticed Genevieve sitting on the bleachers, her long hair blowing gently in the breeze as she laughs at something Danneel said. Danneel’s smiling down at her, and for the first time Jensen wonders how he didn’t see it before—the way she looks at Genevieve.

Danneel’s auburn hair is pulled back and she’s wearing an Eldridge Girls’ Soccer sweatshirt and shorts, managing to look effortlessly pretty with only a little makeup on.

A group of guys come strolling up the sidewalk, dressed in jerseys from both Eldridge and NFL teams. Matt Cohen and Steve Carlson are walking a little ahead of Lafferty, Chad and Tom, Matt with a football tucked under his arm.

“’Bout time,” Jared calls, lobbing his own football in a long arc to Chad. He catches it against his chest with a grunt as his breath rushes out of him.

“Good morning to you too, dickweed.”

“Murray, you’re always so charming at this time of day,” Matt says, laughing. “When’s Kane getting here? I haven’t seen that motherfucker in like, three years.”

They all look at Jensen, whose ears go hot. What exactly did Jared tell them that makes him the expert on Chris Kane?

“Should be soon,” he shrugs, trying to act nonchalant.

“Get out on the field, I’ll catch up in a minute,” Jared tells the other guys.

When they’re alone, Jared reaches out to touch his arm the same way he did all those weeks ago outside Jensen’s dorm the first time they’d had a civil conversation.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah,” Jensen sighs. “I just really didn’t want this to turn into some kind of…” he trails off, sighing again.

“Measuring contest?” Jared provides with an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, that exactly.”

“He knows we’re not… right?”

“I mean, I don’t think he believes it, really, but I told him we’re not, like, a _thing_.”

“So then why aren’t you going out with him?” Jared asks abruptly. He’s looking at a spot on the field somewhere over Jensen’s shoulder.

Jensen bristles. “We’re not gonna talk about this right now—”

“Why not? Now’s as good a time as any. I mean, if he wants you that badly he would’ve said something by now, right?”

“Jared—”

“I know you liked the guy.”

“So what?” Jensen hisses. He really hopes no one notices the way their bodies seem to turn towards each other automatically when they’re not paying attention. He takes a step back to put some space between them.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, or anything,” Jared says.

Jensen blinks.

“I mean, he left before, didn’t he?”

“Are you… are you for real right now?” Jensen says around a laugh.

“What?” Jared shrugs, frowning.

“Why, Jared, I didn’t know you cared,” Jensen snorts.

Jared looks sheepish for a second before play-shoving Jensen. “Shut up.”

Jensen smiles and pushes Jared back, oddly touched. Jared catches his arm as Jensen makes to pull away, laughing.

Just then, Chris’ old truck growls to a stop at the curb. Jensen breaks out of Jared’s grip automatically, already blushing.

“Great,” Jared mutters.

“Play nice. He’s a good guy,” Jensen scolds him.

The door of Chris’ truck creaks shut and he waves to Jensen, wearing a beat-up leather coat over his t-shirt and Adidas pants.

Jensen waves back and Jared doesn’t say a word as Chris walks up to them.

Jensen can feel the testosterone roaring before Jared and Chris even say a word. Chris’ mouth is set in a straight line and Jared’s shoulders are squared, making him look broader and older.

“Jared,” he says, grinning his biggest, whitest smile and extending his hand to Chris. “Padalecki.”

“Chris Kane,” Chris says, shaking Jared’s hand. “I think I remember you, actually. Didn’t you sit on the bench when you were a freshman?”

Jensen rolls his eyes, but neither of them acknowledge it. A flush creeps up Jared’s neck, though his smile doesn’t waver.

“Yeah, I did for a while. I was involved with some other teams, so…”

“Right, right. Yeah, man, it’s cool to meet you. Again,” Chris laughs.

“Yeah, likewise,” Jared exhales, his smile tight. “I was thinking we could do a four vee four.”

“Sounds good. Full contact?”

“Bet your ass.”

Chris smiles back. “Perfect.”

Jensen feels bad for hoping that they’ll knock each other out in the first five minutes, but honestly, this is stupid. What could Chris possibly hope to gain by doing this? And why the hell had Jared gone along with it?

The two of them walk towards the stands, talking and smiling breezily, though they walk oddly close together and seem to be trying to “out-polite” each other, Chris insisting that Jared have first pick.

Jared picks James to Chad’s obvious annoyance.

“Best friends, _right,”_ he complains.

“Shut up, Murray, or I won’t pick you at all.”

Chris eyes the group of guys and selects Steve Carlson. The two exchange one of those bro-handshakes Jensen has never understood.

Eventually, Chad is on Jared’s team, while Tom goes to Chris’.  Matt follows Tom to Chris, and Jared calls out, “C’mon Ackles, you’re on my team.”

Jensen does a double take from his spot on the bleachers next to Misha. “Me?”

“You know anyone else named Ackles? Get your ass out here and play.”

“I, uh, don’t really know how?” Jensen says, his face turning red. All the spectators are looking at him now, and he really wishes Jared would be a little more discreet.

“He doesn’t play,” Chris nods, only making it worse. Having _two_ people speak for him is fairly unbearable.

Jensen’s watched football on TV with Chris and that’s about the extent of his experience. He understands the goal is to run to the end of the field with the ball without getting knocked out. Beyond that he has no idea what the rules are.

He opens his mouth to tell both of them to find someone else, but, thankfully, Danneel shoulders past him on her way to come to his rescue.

“Chill, Padalecki. I can fill in for him.”

Tom shoots her a dubious look.

“You sure? We’re playing full contact.”

Danneel laughs in his face. “Jesus, this isn’t the 1950’s. I won’t break.”

Tom flushes and mutters something about “your funeral,” but Jensen’s pretty sure Danneel knows what she’s doing. A lot better than he would, anyways.

Besides, Jensen has work to do.

As the guys and Danneel get into positions on the field, Jensen retreats to the sidelines with Misha and his laptop bag.

“Thanks for doing this, Mish.”

Jared, Chad, Danneel and James line up opposite Tom, Matt, Chris, and Steve.

“You know I don’t like to mess with people like this,” Misha says.

“I do know, so I appreciate it. I can’t wait to see that smug prick’s face when he realizes he’s losing his crown,” Jensen sighs dreamily.

Misha’s doing him a favor by installing a log that tracks Tom’s activity without Jensen having to do anything. He’s too busy with school, Chris, and Jared to devote the attention that ruining Tom Welling’s life deserves and the log is a neat fix.

“There’s more than this, you know,” Misha says.

It doesn’t feel like it. Three years at Eldridge and it’s become his life. He doesn’t even have friends outside, except Chris, and he graduated from Eldridge anyways.

“Yeah. College is going to be so different.”

He’ll have to meet new people, start all over again. Build his way up from scratch, find a job…

“I didn’t mean college.”

“What did you mean, then?”

Misha shrugs, his fingers splayed in the grass. “I meant everything. We can do _anything._ Right now this seems like the only option but there’sso much more. _”_

Jensen sort of gets where he’s going, but doesn’t have much to contribute on the subject. He’s going to an Ivy League school, just like the rest of his peers. He’ll graduate, maybe work for the government, maybe not, and then…

He’ll figure the rest out when he gets there.

“Ruining Tom’s chances aren’t going to change anything for you, you know that, right?”

Jensen shrugs. “It still makes me feel better. The guy’s a dick.”

“So what? There are a lot of dicks at this school.” Misha looks pointedly at Jensen. And then extra-pointedly at Jared.

“C’mon, Mish. Tom sucks and you know it.”

“Maybe,” Misha says noncommittally. “But this is stupid. And so is this game.”

“You’re telling me.”

“This whole fighting over you thing is pretty childish.”

Jensen colors, pulling at the grass.  “I know. I didn’t ask them to.”

“So tell them what you want. Or _who_ you want.”

“It’s not that simple, Mish,” Jensen growls. “Chris is just doing this to make Jared look stupid, and Jared’s doing this to make himself look good in front of me and Genevieve at the same time. It’s not even really about me.”

Misha rolls his eyes. “You’d save yourself a lot of headaches if you just dropped both of them.”

“Well, yeah. But they’re both… y’know. Really, really hot.”

Misha rolls his eyes again, harder this time, and the two of them watch Jared and Chris pelt down the field.

“You done yet?” Jensen asks, his eyes still on Jared.

He looks at home on the field, taller than the other guys and just the right shade of tan in the autumn sun. 

Misha just snorts and keeps typing.

From what Jensen can tell, Chris’ team is winning. He turns towards the stands, squinting and frowning when he realizes Jensen isn’t there. Jensen gives him a small wave from the sidelines and Chris smiles, casting a look at Jared.

Jensen drops his hand back to his side immediately, furious.

Thankfully, Jared seems unfazed, taking his time bringing the ball back to the line and ignoring Chris.

The two teams line up again and as soon as the ball is in Chris’ hands, Jared takes Tom down. The kids on the bleachers cheer as Jared slams into him, knocking both of them off their feet. Jensen’s grinning, too, getting caught up in all the excitement.

Tom’s up in Jared’s face and Jensen’s legs work automatically, pulling him to his feet, but it’s not like he can do anything except watch as Jared squares his shoulders and shoves Tom back.

Everyone’s crowded around them, words getting lost in a general uproar as the two tall boys stare each other down. Jensen would put his money on Jared any day, but Tom’s big too, just as much muscle as Padalecki.

Jensen’s heart hammers in his chest. Neither of them backs down.

And then Chad and Danneel are dragging Jared away while he spits curses at Tom. Tom, meanwhile, is in Chris’ headlock and isn’t going anywhere.

The kids on the stands have stopped giggling and gossiping. Half of them are standing, a few catcalling, others scared. Genevieve’s frozen in place, watching the scene open-mouthed.

It’s a tense few moments while Chad talks Jared down. Padalecki’s chest is heaving with each breath, little plumes of steam coming from his mouth. His cheeks are blotched red and he’s nodding at whatever Chad’s saying.

Jensen’s never seen him lose it like that. He’s a hothead, sure, but usually he does that infuriating thing where he laughs shit off like it’s no big deal. Like he can’t be bothered with being offended by anyone because it’s not worth the effort.

Tom’s out of Chris’ death grip and hobbling to retrieve the ball. Jared must’ve tackled him too hard by the way he’s walking. Jensen wouldn’t put it past him.

Once he’s sure no punches are being thrown, Jensen steps back and admires the view.

Jared’s Cowboys jersey is rucked up, his shorts hanging low off his hips from tumbling in the grass. Jensen can see the stripe of his boxers’ waistband from here. Probably some preppy, overpriced mall brand. His elbows are scraped raw.

And here he was, thinking football was boring.

The ball’s set up again, Chad playing quarterback for Jared’s side. Tom and Jared glare daggers at each other until the ball is snapped.

Jared bursts from the line, cutting through Chris, Tom, and Matt to pelt down the field. But Tom’s right on his tail. He receives a decent throw from Chad, about to sprint for the end zone when Tom’s full weight crashes into him, a reverse replay of the tackle Jared had used on him two minutes before.

The two crumple to the field for a second time. Jensen’s furious and that’s before he realizes Jared’s not getting up.

Instead of Tom crumpled in the grass, it’s Jared. This time it’s absolutely silent because everyone heard the _crack_ as he went down. There’s no rush towards Jared and Tom. Everyone’s too busy staring, waiting for Jared to get up. But he doesn’t.

 Jared’s not moving at all. Maybe out cold. It’s weird to see that huge mass of energy totally stationary for once, no stupid grin on his face.

Chris is at his side, kneeling and stricken, the cocky smile from earlier wiped clean away.

Genevieve breaks the stillness, rushing off the bleachers to Jared.

Jensen’s not sure why he didn’t think to do that. It’s just that he can’t move; can only watch the scene unfold. He’s aware of Misha going to help and recognizes that he should, too.

Only his legs don’t seem to work, and he watches, frozen to the spot.

“Call 911!” Genevieve screams.

 

 


	11. Eleven

_I don't understand about complementary colors_   
_And what they say_   
_Side by side they both get bright_   
_Together they both get gray_   
  
_But he's been pretty much yellow_   
_And I've been kinda blue_   
_But all I can see is_   
_Red, red, red, red, red now_   
_What am I gonna do?_

 

Jensen doesn’t visit Jared in the hospital.

He has no idea what to say or do, and by the time he finally decides to man up and at least textthe guy, Jared’s back at school. Seeing him in the hallways is a bright spot on Monday, like he’d been going through the previous week half-asleep and had only just woken up.

“Miss me?” Jared grins.

“You wish.”

“You didn’t visit, Ackles,” Jared says, pouting.

Jensen shrugs. “Didn’t think it would matter.”

The truth is, he’d been pretty shaken up after watching an ambulance take Jared away. Even though the paramedics had told them he’d be alright, it was hard to see someone like him in a stretcher. He’d always seemed untouchable. Seeing Jared in a hospital bed would’ve only made him feel worse.

Chris had apologized to Jensen a dozen times about the game, but it hadn’t sunk in until he heard from Danneel that Jared was awake and complaining again. He knew it wasn’t Chris’ fault, but giving him the silent treatment for a few days had given him a sense of savage pleasure. He’d finally called him back last night and they’d had a friendly, if a little too polite, conversation before bed.

“Course it would’ve. Would rather have had you spoon-feeding me than some of those nurses, lemme tell ya.” Jared shudders dramatically.

“Glad to know you soldiered through the pain,” Jensen says, drily.

“Every day was a struggle,” Jared sighs. “But I managed.”

“So what’s the diagnosis? You gonna live to douche up another day?”

“Motherfucker broke my collarbone. I’m stuck in this sling for six weeks at least—at least it’s my left side or we’d be in real trouble.”

“You’re such a perv.” Jensen tries to sneer but ends up laughing. Life without Jared’s right hand would probably be pretty tragic for bothof them.

“Look on the bright side, Ackles. Everyone’s gonna hate him for what he did. He made a real dick of himself out there.”

“Well, yeah, but _he broke your collarbone,”_ Jensen hisses.  “You’re off the team for what, the rest of the season?”

“Yeah. I am,” Jared mumbles, looking away. “Not like I was gonna be eligible anyways.”

Jensen gets it. He’d be pissed, too. Which is why he’s going to make sure Tom pays.

“And my dad came up to visit me for once so that was cool,” Jared says.

“Your dad?”

“Yeah, he’s up here for business so it was kind of a good time for me to end up in the hospital, y’know. My mom was thinking about coming up too, but I talked her out of it.”

“How come?”

“I’m going home for Thanksgiving so soon, I figured it was pointless. Besides, I wasn’t really interested in dealing with any family drama while I was strapped to a bed and unable to bail if things got dicey.” Jared laughs.

Jensen laughs, too, but he’s pretty sure Jared’s only half joking.

 

*****

 

Thanksgiving break is fast approaching and with it the scramble towards the end of the semester. Jensen has four papers due on his return and two tests to take before he leaves.

Sophia spends Thanksgiving with Jensen’s family every year, since her own are too busy with work and being Manhattan socialites to celebrate it with a sit-down dinner or anything approximating an actual family get-together. Mostly it ends with Sophia’s parents taking potshots at each other from across the table while Sophia sneaks rum from the basement bar into her sodas. So, any chance she gets to avoid her family, Sophia takes.

Jensen’s looking forward to getting drunk with Sophia on Moscato and eating turkey and watching horror movies between the mountain of reading he has for class, which is why he’s more than a little surprised when Sophia stops by his room after class, her mouth twisted into a frown.

“Can I talk to you?” She asks.

“Well, I dunno. When you say it like that…”

Sophia gives a weak attempt at a smile and then composes herself. He recognizes her serious face and suddenly isn’t feeling so cheerful.

He invites her inside and she doesn’t bother to sit down before she starts talking.

“Jensen, this whole Tom thing needs to stop. You’re both getting stupid over it. Jared already got hurt and it could’ve been a lot worse.”

“Stop? _Now?”_ Jensen gapes. “After that?”

Sophia stares at him. “You do realize that’s my whole point, right?”

“No. I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

“I’m saying you’re both in too deep. Tom’s seriously pissed off and it’s only a matter of time before something goes wrong.”

“We can handle Tom, alright? Let us worry about it.”

Sophia scoffs. “I’m not _worried_ about you, Jen. The day you don’t watch your own ass is the day I drop counter-point.”

“Okay, so?”

“So, just… stop, okay? Let it go already. It’s getting totally middle school.”

Sophia doesn’t get it. Tom’s a massive prick and needed to be put in his place and that was _before_ he’d broken Jared’s collarbone.

“ _You_ were the one who said he deserved whatever was coming to him.”

“I know. I know he sucks, I know you hate him. But Jenny…”

“What?” Jensen snarls.

“I think everyone gets the point you guys are trying to make. Tom’s a dick. You win, okay?”

“You think I’m trying to make a point?”

Sophia rubs her arms like she’s cold even though his dorm’s heating is on the fritz and the room is sweltering.

“I don’t know, Jensen.”

“Well I’m not, okay?”

“Then what _are_ you doing?”

“I’m just… It’s not that serious, alright?”

“Sure,” Sophia nods. She’s biting the inside of her cheek.

“Anyways,” Jensen says, clearing his throat. “What time am I picking you up on Friday?”

Sophia takes a deep breath.

“Jen, I can’t make it for Thanksgiving this year.”

Jensen blinks. “What, you’re going _home?_ ”

“No, I’m…” Sophia clears her throat. “I’m going to Danneel’s this year. She’s got family in Virginia, so I thought it’d be fun to visit them with her.”

“You’re not coming to my place. You’re going to Danneel’s,” Jensen repeats stupidly.

“Yeah, Jen. I’m sorry.”

“Did I do something?”

“It’s not… I just think we should spend some time apart, that’s all. And I’d really like to meet Danneel’s family.”

“So I did do something.”

Sophia opens her mouth and closes it, then tries again. He’s never known her to be at a loss for words. “Jensen, I think we’re sort of—drifting, I guess.”

“Drifting?” Jensen repeats.

“We just seem to want different things lately.”

“Um, I want to be friends. With you. That’s what I want,” Jensen says.

“I know. I want that, too. But I want to go with Danneel this year, and maybe when we’re back from break, we’ll be on the same page again.”

“Okay?” Jensen says, brow furrowed. “Does this mean I’m going to get the silent treatment?”

“No,” Sophia says. “But I’d appreciate having some space.”

Jensen watches the one person he thought would always have his back walk away, and he actually has no fucking clue what he’s supposed to do about it or how it even happened.

 

*****

  
Jensen’s lying on his back with his phone held up to his ear. He’d been on the verge of falling asleep with _The Metamorphosis_ still open inches from his face when Jared called. They’d messed around a little after class that day, but it’d been the first time he’d seen Jared in a week and they’d had to be careful of Jared’s sling, resulting in some very awkward make-out positions.

Now, the pre-exam rush is starting to catch up to him and he’s more than ready for a week of quiet at home. Thankfully, Eldridge doesn’t have a full week of class, though every day drags by and adds more to his post-break workload.

“What about you, you set to go home?” he asks Jared.

“No, actually. My flight’s not gonna happen because of the weirdly shitty weather in Atlanta where I’m getting my connection. I’ll probably be stuck here for Thanksgiving.”

Jared sounds oddly put out. Jensen never figured him for the “home for the holidays” type, thought he’d rather throw themed keggers at off-campus houses with the other students who stayed.

“Well, it so happens I need a favor,” Jensen says.

 “Again, Ackles? Jeez.”

“Not that kind of favor. I’m going home and I need someone to make me look like I’m cool and have friends or something, okay?”

“Are you saying you think I’m _cool?”_

Jensen scowls. “No, but there’s a blowjob in it for you if you’re really well behaved.”

Jared groans and Jensen hears the smile in his voice. “The magic words.”

“My mom expects me to bring someone home for break, and Sophia’s not gonna be able to make it this year. So, if you want to…”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Really?”

“What else am I gonna do? Pretty much everyone else is going home.”

“Alright, so I’ll see you on Wednesday?”

“Yeah,” Jared says. “Should I bring lube?”

Jensen tells him he can go fuck himself and hangs up, but he’s sort of hoping that he will.

                 
*****

 

At long last, Wednesday rolls around and Jared beeps his horn outside Jensen’s dorm in a long, drawn-out blast.

“Prick,” Jensen mutters, dragging his duffel bag, laptop case, and backpack down the stairs and staggering through the front door.

“Got enough shit?” Jared calls, jogging to the door to help him and taking Jensen’s duffel.

“My hero,” Jensen grunts as he passes it off.

Jared loads his stuff into the trunk while Jensen climbs into Jared’s Tahoe, which, like everything else about Jared, is huge. The interior looks brand new and spotlessly clean.

“It was this year’s birthday present,” Jared explains. “So don’t put your feet on the dash or anything.”

“ _This_ was your present?”

Jared shrugs.

“This school,” Jensen mutters as Jared maneuvers the car out of the parking lot.

Jared drives like a maniac but he at least listens to good music.

“Who is this?” Jensen asks.

“My Morning Jacket,” Jared replies and cranks the volume. “You like?”

Jensen does indeed like. They’re a perfect mix of country and rock, the particular song playing blended with an air of mystery and a touch of groove.

“This album’s called “Z.” They’ve had others since but this one’s my favorite.”

Jared hums along and sings softly with the crescendo.

_You had me worried  
so worried that this would last…_

Jensen smiles and glances out the window. When people start signing in front of him he’s never sure if he’s supposed to join in or sit there and grin like an idiot until they finish. He usually goes with the second.

_But now I’m learning  
learning that this would pass._

A guitar solo kicks in and Jensen’s sort of in love with everything about the band and the way Jared can actually kinda carry a tune, his drawl more pronounced to match the slight accent of the singer who Jared says is called Jim James.

“Is Kane gonna be around for Thanksgiving?”

“What?”

“Chris Kane, y’know, your hot, football playing boyfriend.”

“’S not my boyfriend,” Jensen mutters.

“Well, is he home or not?”

“I dunno.”

Jared snorts but drops the subject. For about two minutes.

“So who’s better?”

“What?” Jensen chokes again.

Things had been going so well. Stupid of him to think he could spend time alone with Jared without it turning into some kind of fucked up competition.

“You heard me.”

“None of your business. Besides, it’s different. Totally different.”

“C’mon, Ackles, I won’t be offended. Just curious.”

“What the fuck kind of loaded question is that, seriously?” Jensen snaps. “Not like _we’ve_ fucked, anyways.”

“So you _are_ screwing Chris,” Jared grins in triumph.

“I—” Jensen really doesn’t want to go in detail with Jared. Things work as they are and no one needs to make them uncomfortable. He wouldn’t want to know about Jared and Genevieve get up to when they’re together.

“It’s fine, man. I get it. First love and all that,” Jared shoots him a sideways glance, grin stretching wider.

“It’s not— _I’m_ not— Fuck you, Padalecki.”

Jensen crosses his arms and stares moodily out the window while Jared laughs and laughs.

 

*****

 

Josh hasn’t been home for Thanksgiving two years in a row, preferring to spend it with his girlfriend’s family in Boston, but this is the first time Mack isn’t home for Thanksgiving and it’s weird to come home to an almost empty house. Donna told him over the phone that she was going to the mountains with a friend from school to camp and horseback ride and stay in some expensive lodge.

Jensen dumps his bag near the door and motions for Jared to do the same.

“Mom?”

“TV room, Jen!”

She’s on the couch, grading a stack of terrifyingly thick essays and watching outdated episodes of Jeopardy.

“Mom, this is Jared.”

Jensen’s not really sure what he’s supposed to do but Jared saunters straight past him to the couch and shakes Donna’s hand with his good arm.

“Hi, I’m Jared Padalecki.”

He gives her dimples and all. Jensen’s half-impressed, half murderous, but his mom isn’t a college professor for nothing—she can see through bullshit faster than Jensen’s ever been able to spin it.

Which is why Jensen stands there with his mouth hanging open when she smiles back and gives him a firm handshake in return.

“Call me Donna. We’re glad to have you, Jared Padalecki.”

Jared laughs and flops down on the couch next to her.

“So what’s the category?”

“US Geography—wait, listen.”

“ _This city some 30 miles west of Dallas began as an army post on the Trinity River.”_

“Ah, man. I should know this,” Jared’s brow furrows.

“So should we, really,” Donna says.

Jared scoffs. “You guys know everything.”

“Well whatever city it is probably isn’t far from where we used to live. Right, Jen?”

“You used to live in—? It’s Fort Worth!” Jared interrupts his own question and slaps his hand down on the arm of the couch. “I bet you anything.”

Jensen’s still staring at his mother and friend(?).

A man with thick glasses and a terrible comb over buzzes in.

_“What is Fort Worth?”_

Jared whoops out loud.

“Nice,” Donna nods, impressed.

“I’ll just leave you two to it then,” Jensen says flatly.

Donna laughs and pulls him over to the couch. He ends up sandwiched between his mother and Jared with Jared’s elbow jabbing him in the chest every time he shifts his weight, which is often since the kid can’t fucking sit still.

“No Sophia this year?”

Jared glances at him and Jensen tries not to fidget too much.

“She, uh, decided to go early.”

“That’s a shame. I would’ve liked to hear her two cents on the election.”

“Try two dollars,” Jensen mutters. “Trust me, we’re better off if you value your sleep pattern. Although, this one runs his mouth about as much.”

“Hey now,” Jared says with mock offense. “I’ll shut up when you stop hanging on my every word.”

                 
*****  

 

Jared and Jensen help Donna with the meal as much as she’ll let them. It turns out Jared’s pretty handy with a carving knife and they all help themselves to steaming plates of food.

They eat turkey and stuffing and Jensen’s mom even lets them have a glass of Merlot each. Jensen can barely stand the taste but gulps it down anyways to feel like an adult. Jared sips his and talks with his mouth half full which would usually drive Jensen up a wall if he wasn’t kinda buzzed and Jared wasn’t so damn adorable.

“You have any brothers or sisters, Jared?” Donna asks.

Jensen should be happy about the fact that Donna’s warmed to Jared so easily, but all he manages is a dull annoyance. _Everyone_ likes Jared. Shithead.

“One of each. Older brother, Jeff, and younger sister, Megan.”

It’s pretty bad that Jensen’s only finding this stuff out now. He just never thought to ask.

Once they’ve finished eating, Jared refuses to let Jensen’s mom do the dishes and suddenly his life feels so much like a holiday rom-com he’d probably puke, except he just ate some seriously good food and would rather hang on to it.

Donna goes back to grading papers, leaving the two of them alone.

“You know I’m not helping you, right?” Jensen yawns and stretches in his chair.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jared waves him off and starts scrubbing the plates clean in the sink. “You never told me you’re from Texas,” he says over his shoulder.

“Never came up,” Jensen shrugs. What with the jerking each other off and making out, detailed personal backgrounds hadn’t made it into the conversation.

“What part?”

“Outside Dallas.”

He stopped thinking of it as home a long time ago. He doesn’t like Pennsylvania much more, yet most of his happy memories were formed here.

“No shit? My family lives in San Antonio.”

“I know.”

“What do you mean you know?”

“Everyone knows,” Jensen says. “Your grandfather’s a politician down there, right?”

“Yeah, he’s a real dickhead. Wonder what he’d think if he knew his football playing, lady killing grandson was fucking around with a dude?”

“But who could blame you when I’m so exceptionally good-looking?”

“Whatever, Ackles.” Jared laughs and fills up the rest of the pots and pans with water to soak. “Is the game on?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy.”

They relocate to the living room, kept warm by the embers still glowing in the fireplace.

As a mark of respect Jensen allows Jared to have control of the remote and doesn’t bitch too much when he turns on the NFL game.

“Al _right_ , Philly versus Dallas!” Jared punches the air with his good arm.

“Don’t you have a conflict of loyalty?” Jensen asks with an arched eyebrow.

“Pfft, as if. Cowboys all the way. How ‘bout you?”

“I like the green uniforms better,” Jensen decides while trying to keep his eyes open.

Jared waves him off. “Yeah, yeah.”

Jensen still doesn’t really get football, but he can at least appreciate it for Jared’s sake—or rather that he loves the game even after he broke a bone playing it. That takes some dedication.

Jared falls asleep splayed out on the couch thirty minutes later with his mouth hanging open. Jensen smiles in spite of himself and slips away, padding into the kitchen for some coffee.

Donna’s made some progress on the mountain of essays, but not all that much.

“Hey sweetie. Where’s your friend?”

“Tryptophan coma,” Jensen tells her as he pulls up a chair.

“I’ll take that as a mark of a job well done, then.”

Jensen nods and glances down at the papers she’s grading.

“Looks like some pretty heavy stuff.”

“Organic Chem isn’t everyone’s favorite,” Donna agrees, adding a large red “D” to the top of the page with a flourish. “At least this kid’s passing.”

Jensen clears his throat. “Mom, do you like what you do? Your life?”

Donna looks up at him.

“Why do you ask?”

“I, uh… I never thought to ask you before. If you’re happy, I mean.”

Donna nods. “I am. Most of the time.”

“Seriously. You’re doing what you want, right?”

“There’s always stuff you look back on and wish you could change. Spending more time with Josh before he went to school. Not being so hard on you.”

“You’ve never been hard on me. It’s always been me being hard on me.”

“You learned it from someone and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t your father.”

Jensen clams up automatically. “Guess not. I barely remember him most days.”

Donna nods. “I’m sorry about that. He was a good guy.”

Jensen crosses his arms.

“Jensen, you know he never meant to… abandon you, or anything. Or Josh, or Mack. He let you come with me because we thought it was for the best. I was the one with the grants and the research honors and money.”

“I know.”

Jensen does know. She’s told him before that Alan _didn’t_ bail on them, no matter what Jensen thinks. It was a mutual split, and while they weren’t hostile towards each other, they definitely didn’t call each other to chat. It’s not like Jensen really misses him because, like he told his mom, he doesn’t remember him.

Donna’s never talked about her marriage like this. He guesses it has something to do with the fact that it’s a holiday and she’s had her fair share of wine.

“Alan never wanted things like this. I just didn’t know how to stop or slow down long enough to see that things weren’t going to fix themselves.”

Jensen swirls the coffee in his mug.

“I just—love isn’t a contest, Jensen. Don’t ever make the mistake I did.”

“What mistake?” Jensen asks, swallowing. The mistake of having kids? Having him?

“Don’t think that you can’t trust other people to know what’s best once in a while. Especially the people you love. Let them in, and trust them. Learn that compromise isn’t the same thing as folding.”

“What do you mean?” Jensen asks, eyes still fixed on his coffee.

“You know your dad and I worked together,” Donna says. “And things got complicated.”

“With the lab research at Penn State?”

“With everything. When he said he wanted to take time off from the study, I treated it like he was backing off from us. You know I loved that job so much. I never thought for a second that maybe I was too invested; that I cared so much about the study because it was what I needed to feel successful.

I thought he wasn’t being serious about our project—the work we’d done together. I didn’t realize he was unhappy, I didn’t see that he wanted to put the focus on us, and our family.”

“He wanted you to stop the study?”

“Not even that. He just wanted me to take a little more time off. Back then it was like asking me to cut my own foot off.”

Jensen smiles in spite of himself. “I know how you feel about the lab.”

“Still, it wasn’t worth my marriage. Worth you missing out on having a dad,” Donna says, her voice catching in her throat. “I think you and I have that in common, Jen. We just don’t know how to let go sometimes.”

“Yeah.” Jensen pulls his sleeves up his arms until they cover his cold hands. He gathers the fabric in his fists and doesn’t look at her. “But don’t you think he was being unfair, too? Asking you to stop?”

“Maybe,” Donna says. “But I never thought we’d actually split up over it.”

She blinks as though she’s only just realizing what she’s saying. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to put all that on you.”

Jensen nods. He gets it but he still regrets asking. He feels sick with knowing too much. When he was a kid, he listened to his mom talk about Alan and could take it. He could hate his dad because it didn’t matter. He only saw him once in a handful of years anyways.

It’s good that she’s being honest with him and has come to terms with her failed relationship, but now he understands what she’s saying all too well.

He’s more than okay with the idea he might end up alone, like Donna. Even if it were legal, getting hitched would likely be a catastrophe for him. Besides that, he’s terrible with kids and he likes his own space.

Still, there are some things Jensen wants to believe in—namely that _things will work out._ If he puts in effort, he’ll get a return. That’s how his world works. He’ll get the grades he needs, he’ll get the job he wants, and things will fall into place.

People are different, though.

People leave and people expect things that he doesn’t know how to give; isn’t ready to give, and might not ever be because he’s difficult and selfish and a little bit afraid, too.

He’s running out of time to figure things out and it scares him shitless.

Donna sighs. “I’m happy you’re making more friends, Jensen. I was never very good at it.”

She probably wouldn’t be as happy if she knew that Jared made him come in class and miss a lecture. Or that their friendship or whatever it was had only formed after he’d blown Jared in the boy’s locker room. Or even that he’s still kinda sorta seeing another guy on the side or that Sophia’s not speaking to him. But hey, details. Jensen’s not about to disillusion her.

“I’m gonna call it a night. See you in the morning.” She piles the essays together and ruffles his hair before she goes upstairs.

Jensen sits alone at the table for a few minutes, thinking.

Jared’s still asleep on the couch, his face tucked into the back with his injured arm cradled close to his chest. He mumbles when Jensen shakes him awake.

“Whass happ—”

He doesn’t finish his question. Jensen kisses him hard, pushes his tongue in without waiting for Jared to wake up. He tastes slightly stale from sleep and Jensen crushes into him, rubbing himself all over Jared.

Jared grunts and gasps, reaching for Jensen’s shoulder to steady himself.

“Jen—”

Jensen shakes his head frantically and sucks on Jared’s bottom lip. He wants to be inside Jared—wants Jared inside _him,_ wants warmth and skin and hot and wet—

Jared uses his left hand to push Jensen back gently, ignoring Jensen’s whimper when he does.

“Hey,” he mumbles. “What’s up?”

He reaches down from the couch to cup Jensen’s jaw and runs his thumb over his lips. Jensen opens up and takes his finger into his mouth, desperate. His tongue runs over the pad and he can feel Jared shaking. It has him so stupidly hard he doesn’t want to wait a second longer.

Jared’s worried expression softens and he drags his thumb to the roof of Jensen’s mouth, glancing over the ridges. Jensen’s panting, sweat beading at his temples.

“This okay?” Jared asks, repeating the motion.

Jensen nods vigorously and his legs clench up when Jared does it again. It’s so good he blinks back actual tears.

He thinks about Chris while he’s tasting Jared. He thinks about how Chris feels inside him, stretching him and filling him. His head aches and he’s too hard and he wants to sleep, but he needs to fuck out this crazy, miserable confusion otherwise he’s going to explode.

“Hey,” Jared says again. His thumb slides out of Jensen’s mouth and he gets up off the couch and sits gingerly next to him on the floor. “You want me to, uh, get you off?”

It sounds so stupid and childish when asked baldly. Like they’re two virgins playing video games, getting hard over Lara Croft and helping each other out.

Jensen pulls Jared in for another kiss, probably the sloppiest of his life, their teeth knocking together and tongues battling until Jared takes charge and pins him to the carpet.

“Jensen?”

Jensen nods and closes his eyes, arches his back off the floor.

“Okay,” Jared breathes. “Turn over.”

Jensen goes rigid. “Don’t—”

“I know. We don’t have to. Just turn over, alright?”

Jensen gets on to his stomach, careful of his hard-on and feeling ridiculous. He’s done so much with Jared, _wants_ to fuck him and still can’t. Not like this.

“That’s good, Jen. That’s real good,” Jared murmurs from above him. “I’m gonna try something. If it’s weird or anything just— Yeah. Wait just a sec.”

There’s a shuffle of socks on carpet and Jared’s back. He straddles Jensen, the hot weight of his groin right at Jensen’s ass and Jensen rolls up into it without thinking. Jared grunts softly, rocking into him, the gym shorts he’s wearing making it easy to feel how hard he is.

Jared’s weight lessens and he’s off Jensen entirely.

“Need you to get your pants down, okay? Can’t do it one-handed.”

Jensen lifts his hips from the floor and pushes his jeans down off the swell of his ass.

Jared’s nose slips under the hem of Jensen’s t-shirt as he kisses his way south then drags his mouth over the divot in Jensen’s lower back. Jensen squirms and rubs against the floor, the friction driving him insane but not nearly enough.

“Jay—”

Jared’s long fingers move to his ass cheeks to work his flesh and send jolts of warmth to his stomach. He backs into the touch, lifts off the floor so Jared has more to work with. He can’t get enough of those hands (hand, in this case); he’d let them take him apart from the inside out, rearrange him, whatever Jared wanted so long as he didn’t stop.

Jared’s kissing him again, lower, and Jensen suddenly knows where this is going. His body tightens in anticipation but Jared’s mumbling softly, his hand skimming over his skin. He leans away again and there’s the sound of a cap being popped on a bottle.

Just then, Jared overbalances and his full weight falls on Jensen’s back, knocking the wind out of him in a huge “oof.”

“Shit, I’m sorry—‘s really hard to balance with my arm like this, fuck are you alright, sorry, Jen I—”

Jensen’s not sure whether to laugh or throw things at him. He needs to get off, like, yesterday.

“C’mon you fucking klutz, we’ll go upstairs.”

“Fuck man, I’m sorry.”

Jensen smiles as he pulls his pants up and helps Jared to his feet. It’s only then that he remembers Jared had lube all over his fingers.

“Goddamn it, Padalecki,” Jensen huffs, wiping it on Jared’s shirt.

He expects Jared to laugh it off but his brow furrows. He turns away from Jensen and sighs.

“It’s a joke, Jared. Calm down.”

“It’s not that,” Jared replies. His figure is silhouetted in moonlight from the sliding glass door, strands of his hair sticking up. “I’m just fucking sick of this gimp arm.”

He’s embarrassed, possibly for the first time since Jensen’s met him. Yet another reason Jensen’s going to fucking end Tom once they’re back to school.

Jensen tugs at his belt loop and drags him towards the stairs. “Not allowed to be moody til we’re done here.”

Jared gives him a half-smile and allows himself to be led up to Jensen’s room.

Jensen lies out on his stomach again, this time putting a pillow under his body to make things easier. They’re both too horny to build the excitement up a second time. Jensen shoves his pants and boxers down and Jared’s right up against him, kissing his lower back and moving to his ass.

Jensen’s seen tons of rimming porn and never really got the appeal, but that’s before he feels Jared spreading him open for his tongue. It’s the weirdest thing Jensen’s ever felt until suddenly it’s one of the best.

“ _Fuck,_ slow down, Jay,” Jensen recoils from Jared, his knees weak. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s said that over the last few weeks but Jared ignores him as usual and gets a firmer grip around Jensen’s hip to pull him closer.

He runs the flat of his tongue over Jensen’s rim and Jensen spreads his legs wider and gathers fistfuls of blankets, writhing and backing into Jared’s face without a thought of how slutty he must look. Jared licks inside him, just as shameless, working deeper and twisting his tongue. He can’t get a perfect angle with the sling but Jensen’s sure as hell not complaining.

“Like that, Ackles?” Jared murmurs, his breath tickling Jensen’s hole.

It’s filthy. Jensen’s never done anything like this and he’d be willing to bet Jared hasn’t either. The thought of Jared doing this to him— _for_ him—

He groans and reaches behind him to get a grip on Jared’s hair. Jared redoubles and starts actually eating him out, not seeming to mind how Jensen keeps pushing back and his nose nudges against Jensen’s ass. His hand finds its way to Jensen’s balls and _Jesus._ His tongue twists and Jensen whimpers, breath tearing out of him in a searing gasp.

Heat surges through him and he rubs himself off on the mattress, canting his hips back at Jared’s encouragement. His mind is miles away from Chris and the conversation he’d had with Donna, his entire universe shrunk into this moment and where his body meets with Jared’s.

This is it— this is what he knows for sure: Jared’s touch and his body’s responses. _This_ is what he wants.

Jared’s tongue is inside him, then at his rim again in light, feather touches that have Jensen making humiliating amounts of noise. He pulls a pillow in closer and bites down on it as his back arches of its own accord, trying to get Jared deeper inside him. The sheets are damp with his precome and sweat.

When he can’t take the teasing anymore, Jensen twists out from underneath Jared, pulls him up beside him on the mattress and kisses him. Jared seems surprised but goes with Jensen’s lead and it’s dirty and right when Jared’s tongue swipes over his and he can taste himself.

Feeling oddly self-conscious, Jensen pulls his shorts back up before settling his weight on Jared. He’s never done it like this, and for a second, the position makes him feel vulnerable. He must look stupid and desperate, but the thought only lasts until he pushes Jared down flat on the bed while he climbs into his lap. This is better.

For a second Jared looks like he might protest, but he thinks better of it when Jensen leans forward to balance himself on Jared’s chest and rocks into him. He’s sweaty and shaky and his stomach’s weak and Jared’s hair is a damp mess and his cheeks are flushed.

“Jensen—” Jared’s voice cracks on his name and his mouth falls slack.

Jensen picks up the pace, his hips snapping and their hard-ons rubbing against each other through layers of clothing. Jared’s hand presses at the small of his back, his fingers dipping just below the waistband of his underwear and it’s exactly where Jensen wants him.

“Gonna make you come, Jay,” Jensen gasps.

And he’s going to watch, too, because he can hold on longer.

Jared grinds up into him and Jensen’s cock is throbbing, flushed with blood.

“With me,” Jared says.

Jensen hesitates and starts to speak, but Jared ignores him and suddenly his hand is down the front of Jensen’s shorts instead, his arm squashed between their bodies as he strokes up Jensen’s length.

Jensen breaks his pace and shakes his head.

Jared’s hand goes still, the warmth of his palm so close to Jensen’s dick he feels like he could come just from the anticipation.

“Please?”

“Okay,” Jensen relents, nodding slowly. “Okay.”

Jared smiles a little before it crumbles into a pained grimace as Jensen rubs himself in a long, slow line against him.

Jensen slips his shorts and boxers down enough to get his cock out and rocks into Jared’s hip a few times before turning his attention to getting Jared’s shorts off, too. He gets both of them in his grip, smiling and coaxing whimpers out of Jared’s throat.

It’s probably not what Jared had in mind when Jensen comes too fast and Jared comes on Jensen’s stomach about twenty seconds later.

“Shit,” Jensen grunts, making to get up from the bed.

“Wait,” Jared pants, tracing a thumb through his own come on Jensen’s body. Jensen shivers, still breathing hard. It’s beginning to cool already, sticking to his skin. He wants it but doesn’t know how to ask for it, feels stupid for even thinking it.

He parts his lips slightly, trying to get up the nerve and then Jared’s thumb is there, pressing gently on the divot in his bottom lip.

“This what you want?”

Jensen answers by closing his mouth around Jared’s thumb, swiping it with his tongue and sucking the warm saltiness down.

Jared’s lips curl into a satisfied smile and Jensen kisses it off him, forcing Jared’s lips apart with his tongue, pushing the flavor of Jared back into his own mouth.

They finally break apart, a trail of saliva leading from Jensen’s mouth to Jared’s and Jensen gets a couple of washcloths before flopping down on to the mattress next to Jared again. After Jared cleans the drying come off himself, he makes to get up but Jensen grabs his arm to drag him back down on to the wet sheets.

Jared grumbles a little but settles in, his body tensed like he’s waiting for Jensen to change his mind.

It’s sort of shitty that he’s so unsure after all this time. Jensen knows it’s because of him—he’s too hard to read, hot one minute and absolutely dead cold the next. He could apologize, though it’d be too little too late and it’d mean next to nothing coming from him.

He tugs on Jared’s arm, urging him closer and onto the dry half of the sheet next to him.

Jared hesitates, waiting to be told off when he obeys. Jensen gets his arms around Jared’s waist and pulls him in, pressing himself against Jared’s hot skin.

Jared’s muscles finally unclench, his breath leaving him in a long sigh.

“I, uh…” Jensen clears his throat.

“It’s alright,” Jared rolls over to face him and it’s so _close,_ so intimate that Jensen’s first reaction is to scramble away. He takes a deep breath.

“I can go downstairs, if you want.”

Jensen doesn’t respond but pulls Jared’s hips into his.

Jared licks his lips, his eyes skittering over Jensen’s face and Jensen leans in.

Jared smiles soft and kisses him, pulling long and slow on his lower lip and letting his tongue make a dry slide into Jensen’s mouth. Jensen braces his hands against Jared’s chest and returns it. He likes the slow burn Jared gives him in his stomach and the way he tastes.

He inhales through his nose and Jared presses in even closer. He wants to wake up with his face buried in Jared’s shoulder.

Jensen’s sure all this means something, but he’s not really sure what. He never knows what to do in these situations, not that anything in his life has played out quite like this. Even with Chris it’s kind of a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of thing.

As soon as he gets off he usually wants to be left alone and this is hardly (Jensen’s brain trips over the word) _romantic_ or anything anyways. Jared’s tongue was in his ass a few minutes ago and if that’s not a mark of how weird things are getting between them—

Jared’s good arm snakes around his waist and Jensen firmly shuts his mind down and closes his eyes, Jared’s soft breathing just inches from his face.

And honestly, it’s something he could get used to.

 

*****

 

Jensen wakes up too hot with all the blankets piled on him. He’d woken up several times in the night because Jared was hogging the comforter and snoring.

But now Jared’s gone and he shouldn’t feel upset.

Coming on too strong would be a mild understatement for the way he’d acted last night. He’d pushed Jared away from day one, pulling him in too far after all that would freak anyone out.

Jensen gets out of bed and pulls on a t-shirt and his rumpled jeans before heading downstairs.

He squints against the light and scratches the itch at the back of his neck, padding into the kitchen to get some coffee.

Jared and Donna are already there, talking quietly and frying eggs on the stove.

Jared’s all messy hair and dressed in a slightly too tight Hanes t-shirt with his feet bare on the tile. He’s putting four pieces of bread in the toaster, saying, “I’m sure he’ll be up soon. Bright eyed and all that.”

Donna snorts. “Yeah, right.”

Jensen clears his throat and it’s sort of funny how the two of them jump like they’ve been caught.

“Talkin’ smack first thing in the morning, huh?” He croaks.

“See?” Jared says to Donna with a grin. “Bushy-tailed.”

Donna laughs and Jensen scowls.

“Got your coffee, princess,” Jared says, passing him a steaming mug.

“Suddenly I’m feeling forgiving,” Jensen replies. “You are all absolved.”

“Whew,” Donna says. “You had me worried for a minute there. I thought I might have to do your laundry or cook your meals or—oh wait, I already do that.”

“Shush,” Jensen mutters, hiding his face with his coffee mug, his ears going red.

“You still don’t do your own laundry?” Jared sniggers.

“I’m a busy man, okay?”

“Speaking of being a busy man, Chris called for you, hon. I told him you were still asleep.”

Jensen coughs and glances at Jared. His face is impassive but his shoulders go a bit tight.

Donna makes him a plate with the eggs fried hardest, the way Jensen likes them. She sprinkles pepper on top and butters two pieces of toast for him before making up a plate for Jared, too.

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll call him back later.”

“Sure. I’ll be in the office grading if you boys need anything.”

Jensen nods and Jared grins at Donna. “Thanks.”

When she’s out of the room, Jared clears his throat.

“Does he know I’m here?” Jared looks up at him for a moment, then back to the floor.

“No,” Jensen admits. “I didn’t tell him.”

“Why not?”

Jensen shrugs. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. That’s all.”

Jared nods and looks away, his lips pursed. “So you gonna show me around?”

“I could,” Jensen agrees. “Or I could just show you the way back upstairs.”

Jared grins. “Don’t think your mom would appreciate us making all that noise when she’s trying to grade papers.”

“True, true,” Jensen sighs. “Alright, what do you wanna see?”

Jared shrugs. “Your neighborhood? You grew up here, right?”

“Yeah, for part of my life.”

Jared nods and lounges against the counter, eyes sweeping over Jensen’s sleep-tousled form. His lips tug up at the corners, his dimples denting his cheeks slightly.

“What’re you looking at?” Jensen grumbles. “Go get dressed. And bundle up, it’s fucking cold.”

 

*****

 

He wasn’t lying— it’s a blustery, miserable day. The sky is overcast and the wind bites through the fabric of Jensen’s coat. He can already feel his cheeks turning red.

Jensen glances at Jared’s big hand swinging at his side. He’s wearing gloves and a North Face jacket, his odd eyes watery and pale yellow-green against the grayish backdrop of Jensen’s neighborhood. Yesterday they were bluer.  It’s sort of annoying how Jensen’s starting to notice these things about him: the brands of clothes he likes, how the hazel of his eyes seems to reflect his surroundings.

But then he’s still here even after last night and Jensen really has to hand it to him. If it were him, he would’ve run away a long time ago—probably at the part where Jensen had practically shoved his tongue down his mouth while he was asleep on the couch, waking him up without giving him a chance to breathe.

Jensen’s suburb spans for about fifteen blocks or so. It’s not particularly big, and most of the houses are imitation Colonials owned by families. Mixed here and there are the houses that have stood for over a hundred years, actual historical buildings that have lasted the test of time. They’re owned by old money, passed down through family generations.

“That’s Chris’ house,” Jensen says casually, pointing two houses down at the brick two-story house with black shudders and white trim.

“Hmm. Quaint.” Jared glances at it then back at Jensen and says casually, “So he knows you’re home.”

“Yeah, he does.”

“And he doesn’t know that I came with you.”

“No,” Jensen shakes his head.

“Are we gonna talk about how that works?”

“Only if we have to,” Jensen sighs. “I don’t really know what to say.”

Neither of them speak for a while, watching Mr. Rouhani rake the last of the vivid red maple leaves off his lawn across the street.

The trees are nearly bare now in the neighborhood and the air’s got a crisp bite to it that warns of frost.

“Do you want me?” Jared asks abruptly. “I mean, do you want this?”

Jensen takes a deep breath and looks at Jared’s shoes. He’s wearing his usual brown Pumas.

“Yeah.”

“So do I,” Jared says, his breath coming out in a puff of vapor. “And you want Chris?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Jensen says quietly. “I think I’ll always want Chris in a way.”

Jared nods. He’s trying to be reasonable and that’s all Jensen can ask.

“And then there’s Genevieve,” Jensen says.

“Doesn’t change things between us, does it?”

“No.”

Jared’s quiet for a minute. “You think we can find a way to make this work?”

“No, not really. But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Me neither,” Jared runs a hand through his hair. “Damn.”

“I just need some time to figure things out. Maybe it’d be good for both of us.”

“Maybe so,” Jared nods and then smirks. “Figures it’d take two people to keep you happy.”

“It’s not that. Besides, you’re in the same boat.”

“More or less.”

Jensen glances up the street at Chris’ house again.  “I just want this week to be for us, alright? I’ll tell Chris I’m busy and we’ll figure it out from there.”

Jensen doesn’t even think, just reaches out and catches Jared’s gloved fingers with his own.

Jared blinks and looks up at him.

They’re standing so close together that the vapor of their breath mixes together, forming a single cloud in the chilly air.

Jared leans forward, his forehead touching Jensen’s, their hands linked and their bodies an inch apart.  The scent of Jared tickles his nose, a faint whisper accentuated by the cold.

What they’re doing should feel wrong, like some kind of clandestine, scandalous meeting. And Jensen knows they’re keeping secrets, knows he’s not doing the smartest, most rational thing.

But for once he doesn’t care, because the knot in his stomach is starting to seem less like an impossible problem and more like a weight he enjoys. Jared found a way to fit into all the spaces inside him he didn’t know he had.

There will come a time, and soon, where he’ll have to figure out what he wants—what’s real, and what’s worth it.

He thinks back to drinking beers with Chris by the lake, to the feeling of Chris inside him, his heart so full and his legs weak and his head ringing with _what-if_ s. And then there’s Jared, with his dimples and the way he makes Jensen come apart without even touching him, the way nothing comes easy between them but how it’s always worth it; the way he said _I need this._ Because like it or not, Jensen does.

He’s making a mistake trying to balance so many things at once, trying to keep Chris and Jared when they both have other prospects. But he’s not ready to give up either of them.

When the wind gusts again, it holds a chill that can only mean winter’s not far behind, and with it will come finals and the last push before Christmas. He’ll have to start getting serious about colleges, thinking about his extracurriculars and SATs. And after break, there’s only one more semester until senior year.

He still has plans for Tom, he still needs to work things out with Sophia. He doesn’t know if Jared will stick around or ditch him for the girl he’s always wanted.

Jared breathes in deep but doesn’t move away from him.

Jensen could do it now. He could stop things between them.

The strings that compose the knot in his insides pull tight at the thought, as though cinched by hands on opposite ends.

Jared meets him halfway, chapped lips on his, and Jensen can’t find it in himself to care that they’re kissing in the middle of the street when he’s not even out to his mom yet. Jensen reaches up to touch Jared’s cheek, surprised as ever by the burning need to be close to him. No matter what, it never feels close enough.

Jared seems to share that particular sentiment because a moment later he wraps his good arm around Jensen’s waist. Jensen starts walking back towards the house in a kind of clumsy backpedal, dragging Jared with him.

“Where—?” Jared breathes between kisses.

“Here,” Jensen says, backing up against the plastic siding of his house. They’re screened by a row of hedges and trees in the Ackles’ front yard.

“Thought you were gonna show me around.” Jared’s pink lips are a little wet.

Jensen shrugs and cups Jared’s face in both hands.

“Plenty of time for that when I’m done with you.”

Jared gives him a dimpled smile and then he’s kissing Jensen back, his fingers slipping through the bristly hair at Jensen’s nape.

“Jensen,” Jared sighs into his skin when they break apart and Jensen shivers. Jared’s hand is inside his coat and shirt at his lower back, fingers digging softly into him, pulling him in close so that their hips align.

Jensen rests his chin on Jared’s shoulder, closing his eyes and focusing on the sensation of Jared’s fingertips moving slowly up and down his back. Jared’s half-hard against his leg but doesn’t seem to be in any rush to remedy the situation.

He listens to Jared’s breathing, fast and ragged, quiet compared to the dead leaves skittering over the pavement. He barely feels the wind when he’s this close to all of Jared’s warmth, except for the cold air sweeping up his shirt with Jared’s hand. He doesn’t really mind it, though.

Jensen can’t help the small flutter of fear he feels in his gut because he knows this is getting dangerous. He’s already thinking ahead to school, to watching Jared with Genevieve; to telling Chris that things between them haven’t changed.

The fact is, everything’s changing and he can’t keep up with it.

He opens his mouth to speak, then thinks better of it. All he wants right now is for Jared to keep tracing circles on his skin, to feel his chest rising and falling against his own. Truth be told, he could get used to having this every day.

“Stop,” Jared says suddenly.

“Stop what?” Jensen asks, pulling away from him, his eyes opening. His cheeks are flushing. He should’ve known this was too much, too close—

“I can hear you thinking. It’s distracting.” Jared gives him a half-smile and doesn’t move his arm from around Jensen’s waist.

Jensen laughs, leaning back into the warmth of Jared’s body. “Sorry.”

“You gonna share with the class, genius boy?”

“I’m just thinking about this.”

“This?” Jared repeats.

“Us, I guess.”

Jared nods, and hand dips further down Jensen’s back, coming to rest in his back pocket.

“It’s confusing,” Jensen admits.

“Yeah, it is,” Jared says, catching Jensen’s lips in a single, slow kiss. “I’ve never… Not with another… y’know.”

“I know.” Jensen leaves his eyes closed for a moment, rolling the taste of Jared around his mouth. Jensen isn’t exactly Jared’s type, what with the having a dick and all. Still, here they are. “I just, I wonder how long we can keep this up.”

“Do we really have to analyze it?”

“We probably should, yeah.”

“But when have we ever done anything that made sense?” Jared asks teasingly, his lips moving to Jensen’s jaw.

“Stop,” Jensen groans, trying desperately to keep a hold on the conversation. “Christ.”

Jared’s hand is massaging his ass gently through the denim of his jeans.

“I mean it. If this keeps up we’re just gonna end up in my room again—”

Jared’s thigh is between his legs now, his hand pressing Jensen closer to him. Jensen bites down on his lip, ignoring the way his jeans feel a couple sizes too tight.

Sex isn’t worth what he has with Chris, he knows that. But Jared’s pupils are blown wide and his lips are parted, and it’s hard to imagine ever giving this up. Every day he spends with Jared like this, Jared digs himself deeper under Jensen’s skin, splinter-like, a small piece of something bigger that Jensen can’t shake off.

Jared’s still smiling, but he doesn’t make any moves. “Sorry, Jen.”

Jensen exhales heavily through his nose, counting backwards from ten.

“Y’know, I was thinking…”

“What?” Jensen says tightly, still trying to steady himself.

“I’ve met your mom now; maybe you should meet my folks.”

“Wha?”

“Really. You could come visit me in Texas over break.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Jensen snorts. “I’ll just drive a billion hours by myself to come see you.”

“You would,” Jared teases. “’Cause there’d be blowjobs and Mexican food and it’s actually warm.”

“Fair point.”

“I just think it’d be cool to see you. Maybe over Christmas or the summer.”

Jensen blinks. Is he being for real?

“Maybe my parents could foot part of a plane ticket or somethin’.”

“You think they’d go for that?”

“Not like they can’t afford it,” Jared shrugs.

“Are you really asking me to travel, like, two thousand miles so we can mess around?”

“Not just that,” Jared laughs. “You should come back to Texas, see what it’s about now that you’re older. It’s where you grew up.”

“Maybe,” Jensen says. Honestly, he’d be happy if he never saw Texas again. It’s not that he hates it; it just doesn’t hold a whole lot of happy memories for him.

“I’ll give you the grand tour,” Jared offers.

“I’m not sure I trust our idea of tours,” Jensen grunts. “This one didn’t go so well.”

“I’ll let you leave my room once in a while. Scout’s honor.” Jared reaches out to toy with the zipper of Jensen’s coat.

“I dunno, Jared. I don’t think my mom would go for it. Besides, Chris definitely wouldn’t.”

“You gonna let him stop you?” Jared asks, his tone mild. He drops his hand to his side, his gaze calculating. “You said he’s not your boyfriend.”

“I know. But neither are you,” Jensen says before he can stop himself. Jared looks taken aback.

“I didn’t realize I had to be for you to visit.”

“It’s not like that. I’m just trying not to let this become a… a _thing.”_

“No offense, but I think you blew it on that count.”

“I mean, more than it already is.”

“Is it really that bad?” Jared asks, ducking down slightly so he can press his lips to Jensen’s pulse.

“The absolute worst,” Jensen mumbles, cringing. “Like, how do I end up in this situation every single time we’re alone together?”

“What situation?” Jared asks absently. His mouth skims over Jensen’s jaw.

“The one where I’m trying to be serious and just end up hard and then I make out with you.”

“Ah,” Jared says. “Well, we don’t have to make out.”

Jensen gives a pathetic sort of groan and closes the scant inches between them, Jared laughing against his lips before parting his own to let Jensen inside the wet warmth of his mouth.

“Maybe we should just…” Jensen pants.

“Mmm?”

“Take a break from it. Y’know— ah, fuck, until we—”

“Until we what?” Jared breathes, amused. He’s pushing Jensen against his thigh and Jensen’s cock is way, _way_ too sensitive for that right now.

“Until we figure things out,” Jensen manages.

“Would that start before or after you come?”

“ _Jared.”_

“Just wondering.”

  
  
*****

 

Jensen’s not sure what he expected, but things change after Thanksgiving.

Jared spends the rest of break sleeping on the couch, Jensen lying awake upstairs, torn by the desire to ask him to come back upstairs without somehow getting caught by his mom and a fear of looking needy.

In the end, Jensen’s inability to decide keeps anything from happening between them again, with the exclusion of a little footsy under the dinner table while Donna talks to Jared about Texas.

Mostly they walk around Jensen’s neighborhood, kicking small piles of leaves and walking to 7-11 to stock up on junk food. Jared eats more Doritos in one sitting than Jensen thought humanly possible and it’s half gross and half intriguing.

In the evenings, they watch whatever comedies happened to be on HBO, carefully sitting on opposite ends of the couch. One night, Jared nods off and starts to lean into Jensen’s side before jumping awake and curling up tighter against the armrest.

He’s obviously trying to keep things casual, holding back his incessant need for physical contact for Jensen’s sake. After all, he was the one who said they should slow down.

Jensen appreciates the thought, but kind of wishes Jared would just kiss him again.

Lying awake in bed he thinks about Chris, only a couple of houses away, and Jared, a single flight of stairs away. He hasn’t called Chris back and, if he’s being honest, he doesn’t particularly want to. Talking to Chris will mean breaking the easy peace of the past week, because as much as he likes Chris, it’s been pretty damn awesome having Jared home with him.

On the last night before their return to school, Jensen calls Chris back while Jared’s in the shower.

“’Bout time,” Chris says when he picks up, and Jensen can hear the grin in his voice. “I’ve got some good news.”

“What’s that?” Jensen asks, flopping down on the couch.

“The band’s coming up here to record our next EP. We found a studio in Philly that offers some good rates.”

“That’s great, Chris. When they coming up?”

“Should be some time in the next month or so. And,” Chris continues, his faint accent slurring his words together in his excitement. “I’ll have my own place by late January.”

“You’re moving out?” Jensen sits up again, frowning.

“Only to Springfield.”

It’s a really short drive, but it still feels weird to have yet another part of his life on Suddard Street change.

“How’d you get the money already?”

“Not from bartending, I’ll tell you that,” Chris grunts. “I got an advance from the record label and my parents are helping me out until I get everything settled.”

Upstairs, the water shuts off.

“Chris, I should go—”

“You’re home, aren’t you? For break?”

“Yeah, but I—”

Jared’s dressed in a striped, long-sleeved shirt and baggy jeans, looking unfairly adorable as he towels his hair dry.

He takes one look at Jensen on the phone and the welcoming smile that had started on his face dies instantly.

“I’m spending it with my family, y’know, and—”

“Sure,” Chris says, his tone slightly stiff. And in spite of what Jensen told Jared about wanting the week to be just for them, he can’t help the way his stomach sinks. “Well, if you find a day in your busy schedule, I’ll be here for another week or so before I start recording demos in Philly.”

“That soon?” Jensen asks, reeling.

“I told the band I’d be out sooner rather than later and they’re gonna meet me out there once they come north. I mean, I don’t have anything to stick around for out here.”

Even if he deserves it, it still hurts.

Just as surely as he’d been pulled towards Jared earlier that day they held hands and kissed in the street, he has to restrain himself from telling Chris he misses him. Because whenever he feels sure that he’s happy, that he’s with who he wants, something pulls him in the opposite direction.

He feels Jared’s eyes on him and clears his throat.

“I’ll call you.”

“Yeah, alright. Later, Jen.”

“Bye,” he says, hanging up before Chris.

“Was that who I think it was?” Jared asks idly, straddling one of the wooden dining chairs around the table.

“Yeah,” Jensen says, turning his back on Jared to give himself a moment to think.

“Did you tell him you couldn’t hang out because I’m about to give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had in your life?”

He hadn’t even heard Jared come up behind him, but then there’s arms around his waist and the warmth of Jared’s chest against him and Jensen backs into it without thinking.

“That’s not exactly what I said,” Jensen murmurs. 

Jared’s hand is on his lower stomach, his fingertips sliding beneath the waistband of his shorts.

“C’mon, Jay, not right now.” Jensen breaks away from him, suddenly annoyed.

He shouldn’t be blowing Chris off like this, not when he’s going to lose him again so soon. When Chris came back, Jensen had sworn to himself that, no matter what he did with Jared, he’d put Chris first. Chris had always been first for him. Yet here he is, dodging his calls, too much of a coward to at least do him the courtesy of telling him the truth.

But what was the truth? That he was messing around with Jared? He knew that much and it hadn’t seemed to bother him terribly. If it had, he’d come get Jensen himself, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t keep making half-assed attempts to hang out when he knew Jensen was busy nearly all the time.

“If you’re not gonna talk to me or whatever, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” Jared says, gesturing towards the couch.

Jensen nods and lets Jared go, but at the last second changes his mind, blurting: “It’s just, you’re not even gay.”

Jared stops in his tracks, turning to face Jensen again. “So?”

“So what the fuck _is_ this?”

Jared shrugs. “Hell if I know. But I wasn’t gay every other time we’ve messed around, either.”

“You’re right, and it’s pointless,” Jensen says firmly. “You know it and so do I.”

Jared backtracks, coming back into the kitchen with a small smile playing out on his mouth, like he knows the punch line to a joke Jensen’s about to tell.

 “Yeah, I guess.” Jared closes the gap between them, his eyes on Jensen’s lips. “It’s all really pointless.”

Jensen tries to clamp down on the wave of _want_ roiling inside him _._ “Seriously, Padalecki—”

“Don’t start that shit,” Jared shakes his head, pulling Jensen by his shirtfront so their foreheads are touching and Jared’s breath is on his mouth. “You coulda backed out a long time ago.”

Jared doesn’t move to kiss him and their breathing is uncomfortably loud in Jensen’s ears.

“Stop jerking me around, Jensen. I can walk away, too.”

“You won’t,” Jensen murmurs before he can stop himself.

“I won’t?” Jared repeats.

“No,” Jensen says, less firmly than he meant.

Jared takes a step back with a rueful smirk.

“I’d be careful of making bets if I were you,” he says. “That didn’t work out so well for you last time.”

Jensen bites down on his lip and Jared doesn’t look away.

“What do you want, Jensen?”

“You,” he mumbles, miserably.

“You have me,” Jared says, cupping his chin.

 _For now,_ Jensen thinks. And then what?

“You think I don’t want you, too? That I’m the one holding back? Jen, if you wanted me to, I’d—” Jared breaks off, shaking his head.

He meets Jensen’s eyes and it sends a shiver down his spine. He doesn’t have to finish his sentence because it’s staring Jensen in the face. He’d do anything Jensen asked him to right now.

“When are you gonna get it?” He says, finally. “When are you gonna let go?”

Jensen just swallows and looks away, queasy with the amount of power resting in his hands all of a sudden. Jared would give himself over to whatever Jensen wanted and he’s so close to asking for everything.  

But it wouldn’t change anything, wouldn’t change the sick, uneasy confusion Jensen feels in his gut. It’d only be worse if he gave in. This could be what Jared’s waiting for— Jensen’s supposed to say something grand and poetic, but all he can think about is Genevieve and Chris and how this fucked up thing between them should’ve died of natural causes a long time ago.

“I’m sorry. But it wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Jensen says, his throat dry.

Jared takes a step back, nodding and clearing his throat. He looks winded, like he just ran laps around the living room. He sits on the couch, running a hand through his hair without looking at Jensen.

“You’re telling me.”

Jensen thinks that maybe he should leave, but Jared keeps going, his words halting. It’s the same thought from earlier, but he still can’t say it. “Y’know—if I thought you—”

And Jensen’s glad he never finishes that thought, because something tells him he can’t hear it. Not yet.

“Forget it. G’night, Jen,” Jared says softly, his voice finally level again.

Jensen nods and makes for the stairs, but as soon as he’s halfway up them, he stops, leaning against the wall in the dark, running a hand through his hair and scrunching his eyes shut. He waits for his heart to stop pounding, for his breath to steady, and wonders what the hell he’s going to do.

 

*****

 

Jensen takes the first week back to school to devote himself fully to his work, ignoring his phone when it vibrates and turning his attention to essays, test reviews, and flashcards for his upcoming finals. He knows he has Calc in the bag, but Dinwiddie’s final essay on _The Metamorphosis_ and Shields’ massive lab-based Geology exam might be the death of him. European History’s exam is a gift compared to his others— a take-home, open book long answer exam. For some reason, they’re having a Phys Ed final, too, but it’s a nutrition quiz that’s at the bottom of his priorities.

Meanwhile, he and Jared aren’t exactly ignoring each other, but they’re not talking like they used to, either. Every time he thinks about texting him, he puts his phone back down, afraid of looking desperate and unsure of what to say anyways.

It’s impossible to avoid running into him and Genevieve in the halls, and no matter what arrangement they’ve come to, it never stops being weird. Weirdest of all is how Genevieve smiles and says “hi” to Jensen whenever they walk past each other. He wonders if she’d still do that if he yelled “I sucked off your Homecoming date” in return.

But really, she’s nice and Jensen wishes she wasn’t. He wishes she were a raging, awful hag so he could hate her.

Worse still is seeing Sophia after class on Monday and not being able to talk to her. She would listen, he knows she would, but it’s really not fair to dump more of his issues on her when she’s probably stressing about the end of the semester as much as he is.

With a sigh, Jensen slings his bag over his shoulder and starts walking back to his dorm, not noticing Danneel until he almost walks straight into her.

“Watch it, Ackles.”

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“Right, yeah, you’re too busy with the whole moping thing.”

“I’m not _moping,”_ Jensen protests. Okay, maybe he is a little. 

Danneel grins.

“How was Thanksgiving?” Jensen asks. His eyes are still on Sophia, who’s talking to Rob Benedict with her books held up close to her chest. She’s wearing her favorite white blouse and the black skinny jeans she bought when she and Jensen went to the mall— they’re the pair with the button that’s about to fall off. She pulls a black umbrella out of her bag and then she’s out in the storm, head bowed against the wind.

“It was good,” Danneel shrugs. “Same old family stuff.”

Jensen turns his gaze to Danneel and she looks at him for a long moment.

“You know, I think she missed your place. She didn’t say it out right, but she laughed a lot when she talked about last year with your family.”

“My mom got distracted and left the turkey in the oven for an extra couple of hours,” Jensen says, smiling wryly. “It was like eating jerky.”

“Yeah, so she said.” Danneel switches her purse strap to her other shoulder and adjusts her hold on her books. “Things will be okay, Jensen. Just give her some time. She’s scared, that’s all.”

“Scared?” Jensen repeats. “Of what?”

Danneel shrugs again. “Of losing you. Of you getting hurt and not being able to stop it.”

“Losing me? We’ve been friends since freshman year.”

“Yeah, and she had to watch you with Kane. _And_ after Kane. Give her a little credit, Ackles. Your life’s been kinda high drama lately. Can’t blame her for wanting to take a breather.”

“I guess so,” Jensen says. He hadn’t thought about it that way.

“She just doesn’t want the whole Tom and Padalecki thing to backfire. I don’t know if she can watch you go through something like that again.”

“Did she tell you all this?”

He’s not sure if he should be offended Sophia’s been spilling details about his personal life, or flattered that she still cares enough to talk about him.

“Not in so many words. Which leads me to my next point.” Danneel takes a deep breath. “Tom’s been saying some stuff about Gen and Jared. I mean, I’m sure he’s just talking out his ass.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like Gen and Tom gonna be getting back together any time soon, put it that way.”

Jensen shakes himself out of his thoughts and looks at Danneel. Her expression is neutral, but there are faint lines around her mouth. She’s probably the only one who understands how he’s feeling right now

“It sounds like they’re, uh, getting serious, I guess.”

But why now? Why after Thanksgiving, when everything with Jared had felt so easy, so natural? Was it because of the last night they’d spent together? Had Jared taken it as a flat out rejection?

Jensen feels something hot and fierce turn over in his belly, something that wants to grab Jared and pin him down and—

Shaken, he takes a deep breath and tries to smile. “Thanks for the head’s up.”

“I just didn’t want you to get hurt, or anything.” Danneel doesn’t have to add the _like me_ at the end.

 

*****

 

Jensen’s tired.

He’s been studying for hours and his head’s too full of pointless facts and a jumble of dates and all he really wants is to have any kind of tequila while lying in bed. And maybe getting some head while he’s lying there. It’s the little things.

Thing is, he still doesn’t know what to believe about Jared. Every time they’ve been alone, it’s like Jared’s exactly where he wants to be. But almost every time Jensen sees him during the school day, he’s with Genevieve and not him.

So the first thing he does when he finally drops his textbook off the side of the bed is walk over to Marshall Hall, sliding in past a boy who’s going outside to make a phone call. 

He shucks his coat as soon as he’s inside the warm dormitory, taking the stairs two at a time. Hopefully Matt’s gone.

He taps his foot impatiently, waiting for Jared to answer. He knocks again, harder.

Jared finally opens the door, squinting, his hair rumpled and his clothes disheveled.

“Ackles. ‘Sup?”

“You busy?”

Jared shakes his head and steps back to let him in.

Jared’s bed is a mess as usual and it looks like he just got up from it.

“Studying hard for that Calc final, I see,” Jensen says.

“’M just… I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep,” Jared shrugs, letting out a huge yawn and rubbing his eyes. “So what’d you come over for?”

Jensen’s tempted to just lean in and kiss him, maybe push him back down in the mess of blankets.

“I just—I’ve been hearing things. About you and Gen.”

Jared turns his back on him, nodding and sitting down at his desk. “Yeah? From who?”

“Danneel. Who heard it from Tom. I figure he’d be in the know, right?”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to know what me and Gen did?” Jared asks drily.

“I don’t, believe me,” Jensen says. “But I need to know where your head’s at.”

“Same place as yours,” Jared grunts.

“Which means?”

“Which means I don’t know what to do.”

Jensen closes the distance between them in seconds, leaning down to Jared and kissing him full on the mouth. He waits for Jared to get with the program, then he’s kissing Jensen back, exhaling hard through his nose when Jensen’s tongue meets his.

_Pick this. Pick me._

Jensen’s left hand is on Jared’s shoulder, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt and he’s holding Jared’s jaw with his right, the rasp of Jared’s stubble on his skin because he hasn’t shaved.

They break apart, Jared panting slightly and Jensen glaring down at him. “Are you or are you not fucking Cortese? I don’t get what’s so hard to answer.”

Jared takes a swig of water from a glass on his desk then gets to his feet, brushing past Jensen to pace the room. His cheeks are still pink.

“No, I’m not,” he growls. “Not that it’s any of your business, since I’m not allowed to talk about Chris.”

“Then, what, did you rim her, too? What the hell is Tom talking about?”

Jared doesn’t acknowledge the rimming comment but at least has the grace to turn red. “He’s talking shit. C’mon, man, you can’t let this get between us now. He knows we’re fr…” He hesitates. “He knows we hang out.”

Friends. Huh. That’s the first time Jared’s ever called him that, even if he didn’t finish the word.

“She has no idea about us, does she? No idea about you?”

“What d’you mean?” Jared asks, avoiding his eyes.

“I mean the fact that you’re sucking off another dude.”

Jared shrugs and sighs. “I didn’t want to give her the wrong idea.”

“Which is?”

“That I’m… I mean, I like girls.”

“Right, yeah,” Jensen says, his blood running cold. “Yeah.”

Maybe he shouldn’t care. For all intents and purposes, Jared _is_ straight. Still…

Jared bites his lower lip. “Look, Jen, no one needs to know what we do, alright? It’s between me and you.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m with you on that one,” he says with a hint of bitterness he can’t quite keep out of his tone.

“You haven’t told anyone either, have you?”

“No.” But that’s not entirely true. Sophia and Danneel both know _some_ details, even if he didn’t fill them in on the whole picture.

The logical part of Jensen recognizes that he’s coming off as a jealous schoolgirl. If anything, it’s a blow to his pride. The thing he and Jared have between them has been working just fine for him and the fact that it’s not mutual is embarrassing. Like he hasn’t been holding up his end. So, yeah, it pisses him off that Jared’s been double dipping and lying about it as if Jensen can’t handle it, as if he’ll be heartbroken or something.

It makes sense for Jared to be with Genevieve. She really does seem to like him back. She’s cute, funny, and a decent human being—better than both Jared and Jensen combined. She’s got that kind of contagious goodwill that makes everyone around her want to donate to charity and adopt puppies and throw their coats down in puddles for grannies. She’d knock Jared into shape, force him to grow up and stop acting like such a spoiled dickhead. But no matter how much Gen likes Jared, there’s no way she can actually make a real time commitment to him. She’s too busy trying to stop world hunger or whatever.

Jensen had assumed that they still had some time before things got serious between Jared and Gen, but it’s starting to look like this is Jared’s way of letting him down gently.

“Look, Jensen, I wouldn’t have done any of this if I didn’t like you, but you don’t know what my dad would do to me if he knew you and I were…”

Jensen never bothered to get his hopes up. Even if Jared isn’t like other Eldridge kids, he has as much foresight as any of them. He’s thinking about his future, and he doesn’t have one with Jensen.

“Are you… are you really doing this?” Jensen laughs in disbelief. “Now?”

“What?” Jared’s brow furrows.

“ _Breaking up with me,_ ” Jensen says, so full of derision that he can’t keep his hands from waving to illustrate just how disgusted he is with the concept of being dumped by someone he’s not even dating. But then it had to happen sometime. Jensen just always imagined it’d be him doing the dumping and it wouldn’t feel anything like this.

“I’m just saying, you obviously like Chris, and Gen likes me, and maybe… maybe that’s how it should be.”

“Sure, okay,” Jensen says, his tone icy.

“Please, Jensen, don’t get pissed at me. Not right now,” Jared sighs. “I have eight thousand things going on and I don’t want you to hate me.”

His right hand is outstretched, as though he’s about to reach for Jensen but thinks better of it. “I have to start getting serious. About school, and about… well, everything.”

“Okay,” Jensen says, taking a breath. “Okay, fine. I don’t hate you.”

Jared’s still close enough for Jensen to touch. “I don’t want you to give up on Chris for me, if that’s what you really want. I can’t—I can’t be with you, Jensen. Not that way.”

“I wasn’t—I never said—” Jensen stammers, flushing. “I’m not _dating_ him, or you for that matter.”

“I know,” Jared says, nodding. “But you could be. He came back for a reason.”

And maybe Jensen should listen to the voice in the back of his head that whispers, _I don’t care,_ but what he says is, “he came back for him. He came back because he didn’t know what else to do.”

Jared watches him for a moment then shakes his head.

“Are you really that scared of what people think?” Jensen asks, unable to keep down the tide of anger rising in him. After all his _I don’t give a shit_ attitude, Jared’s turning out to be just another scared jock after all.

“You knew it was going to be like this. You said you wouldn’t hold it against me.”

“Guess I lied,” Jensen says.

 

*****

 

Jensen’s head is still buzzing with their conversation later that night when he sits down at his desk, furiously unwrapping a mint and cramming it in his mouth. He considers calling Sophia, but doesn’t want to look pathetic. After all, this whole Jared thing was never supposed to last and he’d known that from the start. Still, it might’ve been nice of Jared to consider that fact before kissing him stupid over Thanksgiving.

He’s bored and on edge, just this side of pissed off. So he does what he always does when the going’s slow—he hacks into the school’s system and takes a look around.

The only teacher he hasn’t checked up on is Dr. Morgan—he likes him too much to want to invade his privacy, as tempting as it might be. The others are all fair game, though. He knows Dinwiddie used to teach at a public high school and that she was fired for demanding too many changes. Shields worked on several projects overseas, involved with American oil compounds in the Middle East. His family still lives in Saudi Arabia from what Jensen can tell. The track coach, Roché, has a sketchy record at best with the number of schools he’s taught at; something about “inappropriate conduct.” Kripke, head of the Comp Sci department, had a colorful history of hacking and software development before he settled down to teach, which is why he and Misha are so tight.

As for students, Chad Murray has the best grade in shop class out of anyone in their year, true to what Jared said. Misha’s doing really well in all of his classes, though his attendance isn’t spectacular. Sophia’s acing English, Danneel’s struggling in Chemistry.

Jensen pauses on _Padalecki, Jared Tristan._ He snorts. He _would_ have an uppity middle name like _Tristan._

But that’s when he notices the note next to his name.

_ACD PROBATION._

Calc and Grammar & Comp are the only two classes Jared’s passing.

How could that be? He’d been doing shitty before, sure, but he’d managed. How much of his time can he possibly be spending with Genevieve and why hadn’t he said anything to Jensen? He probably would’ve helped him out, at least before things got so weird between them. Everything he’s done for Jared won’t count and it’s all because of some fucking chick.

No. Because Jared’s too busy being an asshole to get his act together. It’s not Genevieve’s fault, as much as Jensen wants it to be.

Unless he gets some serious help, it looks like Jared’s on his way out.

Jensen closes his laptop, feeling vaguely ill. He lays on his bed with his arms folded under his head for a long time that night, thinking.

 


	12. Twelve

_Cause we both know I'll never be your lover_   
_I only bring the heat_   
_Company under cover_   
_Filling space in your sheets_   
_Well I'll never be a lover_   
_I only bring the heat_   
_Company under cover_   
_Filling space in your sheets, in your sheets_

 

Jared paces up and down Jensen’s dorm, one hand in his hair, the other gesturing wildly as he explains the situation to Jensen.

“Okay, so don’t freak out, but—”

“You’re on probation,” Jensen says, cutting him off. “I know.”

Jared stops pacing and frowns at him.

“How did you—?”

Jensen taps his laptop.

Jared heaves a sigh and bites his lip. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious.”

“I know.”

Jared had come to his room unannounced as usual, and when Jensen opened the door he half-expected Jared to pull him in for a kiss, but instead he’d asked to talk with his eyes downcast. Since he came through the doorway, Jared’s anxiety has been crackling off him like static and the only way he seems to be able to work it off is by pacing.

“My dad, he’s… he’s gonna kill me if I don’t fix it,” Jared says.

Jensen glances up at him. He’s never heard Jared’s voice go soft like that, inflected with something like fear. Not for the first time Jensen wonders what kind of life is waiting for Jared back in Texas.

“I don’t get why you didn’t ask me sooner. It’s going to look really suspicious if all of a sudden your grades jump up out of the blue—”

“I’ve just had so much going on, I didn’t even have time to think about it. My parents are going to murder me if they send a progress report home and it looks like that.”

“I _could_ do it…” Jensen starts to say.

“Please. I really need a favor. I’ll do whatever you want, just. Please.” He fixes his pleading gaze on Jensen, which is when he notices there are shadows under Jared’s eyes. They off-set the light hazel, making the yellowish green more pronounced. Apparently he still looks annoyingly handsome even when he’s exhausted.

“I know it’s like, nothing, for you. You’re really good with computers and—”

Jensen raises an eyebrow. “Am I really that easy to flatter?”

Jared grins sheepishly. “Generally? Yeah.”

Jensen leans back in his chair, frowning. He shouldn’t, but it’s not like he’ll get caught. The only way he’d get noticed is if he somehow crashed the system—a massively clumsy move he wouldn’t make. The security around Eldridge’s mainframe is laughable, even with Kripke as the head of the Comp Sci department. The school board never put forth the resources for a better system because, like most schools and businesses, they were woefully uninformed about cyber security and the kind of information available to anyone with the know-how to get through.

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Thanks, man. You have no idea.” Jared squeezes Jensen’s shoulders.

Jensen leans in closer instinctually, smiling slightly, but at the last second Jared turns his face an inch to the right, his eyes not meeting Jensen’s.

“I—” Jared begins.

Jensen flushes, biting the inside of his cheek and turning back to his computer. He gets that Jared’s scared and maybe not in the mood to mess around, but he only wanted to kiss him and it’s sort of embarrassing to be turned down.

“I’ve gotta go, I have a tutoring session with Shields.”

“Sure, yeah,” Jensen says. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll call you.”

But Jensen’s not surprised when his phone stays silent all night.

                 
*****

 

Eldridge cut down on paper grades a long time ago in an attempt to be more “environmentally friendly.” The system is entirely online and the only teachers who still gave written feedback were usually those that taught English or Math.

Jensen’s on his stomach, his laptop open in front of him and a Lifesaver mint on his tongue, at complete and utter peace. He’s on top of the world. He can do this. He’s good at this; better than just about anyone he knows.

For Jensen it’s always been a rush to put pencil to paper, letting his mind take over and grappling with a problem and forcing it to take the shape he needs it to. Coding is the same. Nothing can stop him when he hits this point.

He rolls his mint around his mouth, humming under his breath. This is easy. It’s been a long time since he hacked anything this simple and straightforward and a current of excitement runs through his body, fizzing out at his fingertips. He almost wishes Jared had asked him to do something harder.

All he has to do is edit a few values and Jared’s grades stabilize. He wonders how closely the grades are monitored, if anyone’s going to notice the probation flag vanish from next to Jared’s name. Probably not, since people are always moving up and down in rank.

He exits out, then scrolls down through the rest of his class. Rob Benedict’s grades are really, really good and so are Misha’s. They’re his next concern.

He hesitates on Tom’s name. The temptation’s too strong and all of Tom’s grades are right there, begging to be rearranged. Plus, he’s careless with his papers—Jensen witnessed it firsthand all those months ago in the hallway. Tom hadn’t even noticed when his essay fell out of his bag. What were the odds that he kept his other grades as records?

Surely no one would notice if he tweaked a few of Welling’s midterm reports. He wouldn’t make it obvious; just clip a few points here and there to balance things out.

And really, he’s not far behind Tom at all. If he manages to pull off a decent grade in Dinwiddie’s final, there’s a good chance he’ll pass him and become valedictorian. He doesn’t feel bad about it for a whole list of reasons, starting with Jared’s fractured collarbone and ending with the fact that he probably would’ve passed him anyways.

 

*****

 

It’s lunch period and Sophia and Jensen are sitting at a table by themselves, Jensen casting heated looks over at Jared. Jensen doesn’t sit at Jared’s table during lunch anymore. It’s back to eating at the corner table with Sophia, and he counts himself lucky to have her at all after how erratic he’s been. She probably just took pity on him, but it’s good to have her back. Sometimes Danneel drops by their table, but Jensen can tell she’s having a conflict of loyalty. She was Jared’s friend first after all.

Jared’s too preoccupied with his hangers-on to notice anything, but it doesn’t stop Jensen from pouring every ounce of anger he can muster into his stare in the hopes that it’ll take on some real heat so he can burn a hole in the back of Jared’s head or something.

Sophia listens and talks to him, but it’s obvious that she’s holding back. Every time Jensen mentions Jared’s name, even in passing, she seems to be biting her tongue. He’s not sure if it’s on an “I told you so” or something worse.

“I mean, he like, full on _pulled away.”_

Sophia wrinkles her nose sympathetically. “That’s embarrassing.”

“You’re telling me.”

“So why are you helping him?”

“Because,” Jensen sighs. “It’s easy and he was giving me serious puppy eyes, I mean like homeless animal shelter, about-to-be-euthanized-if-you-don’t-adopt-me looks. And I don’t hate the guy, even if he’s being an asshole.”

Sophia nods. “I’m sorry, Jen. Maybe he’ll come around still.”

Jensen shrugs. “At least I tagged Tom before this shitstorm.”

“You what?”

“I… may or may not have fucked with his grades a little while I was fixing Padalecki’s,” Jensen says.

“You’re _still_ not over the Tom thing?” Sophia’s obviously exasperated and Jensen can’t help feeling a little hurt. She should hate him as much as Jensen does, if only to show solidarity. It’s not like Tom deserves her sympathy.

“What? He hates me, I hate him; it’s the way of life.”

Sophia fixes him with a pitying look, as though she’s about to disabuse a child of the fact that Santa doesn’t exist. “Tom barely knows who you are, Jensen.”

“That’s impossible. We’ve had class together two years in a row.”

“I’m telling you, you wasted all this time hating him and he can’t even remember your name or who the hell you are.”

Jensen opens his mouth to make a snide remark when Misha puts his lunch tray down next to Sophia. He sits down and looks between the two of them like they’re his parents, about to get a divorce over the dinner table.

“Everything okay?”

“No,” Sophia says at the exact same time Jensen says “yes.”

Misha blinks and turns his attention to his Caesar salad, carefully not saying anything.

“Jensen here is just blowing things way out of proportion, as usual,” Sophia says scathingly.

“As if,” Jensen scowls. “You know it’s—”

“Did you just say ‘as if?’” Misha snorts.

“Shut up, Mish.”

Sophia grins and Jensen’s scowl twitches and breaks into a weary smile. “Okay, so, maybe I have some issues with Tom Welling. But they’re not going to be a problem for much longer anyways.”

“How come?” Misha says around a mouthful of lettuce.

“Because I messed with his grades online.”

Misha suddenly chokes, Sophia’s eyes widening as she slaps him on the back.

“You did what? _”_ Misha asks, blanching.

“I just rearranged some grades, that’s all. Easy stuff.”

“No, not anymore,” Misha says, shaking his head with wide eyes. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Jensen swallows, trying to ignore the way his heartbeat’s picking up.

“Kripke had me strengthen the school’s mainframe. He said we needed to up security for privacy reasons, because all of the donations and stuff that are coming in from the alumni…”

Jensen’s stomach bottoms out. “So what’ll it do?”

“Log your IP address. I kept the security system fairly simple but there’s no way you got past it untagged if you weren’t being careful.”

“I wasn’t,” Jensen says in a hollow voice. “I thought it was the same as before. I didn’t notice anything different.”

“Well then you weren’t paying attention,” Misha says, eyes wide. “Shit, man, I’m sorry—”

“Is there any way you can keep me from getting busted?”

“I don’t think so,” Misha says, shaking his head, his mouth drawn tight in sympathy. “How long were you in the system?”

“I fixed Padalecki’s grades and I messed with Tom’s, so a good ten minutes at least.”

“Yeah, that’d be plenty of time to trip my security. Jensen, if I’d known you were gonna—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jensen says, hearing his voice as though it belongs to someone else. “How would you have known I was gonna do something that stupid?”

Misha probably thinks he deserves what he got since he actually has a heart unlike half the student body at their school, but he doesn’t say so and it means a lot.

Sophia and Misha have both stopped eating and are staring at Jensen pityingly, which is only making things worse. The bell rings and there’s a huge clamor as students gather up their books and throw away their trash, talking and laughing.

Jensen doesn’t get up, still in a kind of disbelieving trance.

“Jen, you coming?” Sophia asks, her hand on his shoulder from across the table.

“No, you guys go ahead. I gotta get my binder from…” he trails off. Misha and Sophia exchange a look, but they nod and leave him alone.

Jensen waits until they’re gone and the cafeteria is mostly empty before getting to his feet. He’s supposed to be going to Health, but for once, he might skip class.

He steps out into the hallway, his Converse screeching slightly on the waxed floor.

If Kripke knows that he’s been hacking into the school’s files, he’ll report it to Dr. Larson and Jensen might as well start packing his bags now.

He wanders down the corridor towards Dr. Morgan’s room on auto-pilot, passing the rows of lockers meant for the day students. He’s not worried about being caught without a hall pass.  Pretty soon his troubles are going to be a whole hell of a lot bigger than being out of class unexcused. 

He pauses in front of the trophy cabinet for a moment, his eyes passing over the student council photos. Jared’s grinning, dimples and bright white teeth, next to Sophia, also dimpled.

Jensen had never figured on losing both of them, especially not so close together. But he knows they’re all drifting apart, that when high school’s done they’ll all go their separate ways.

If Jensen even finishes school at Eldridge, that is.

Just then, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He doesn’t bother getting his hopes up and rubs his eyes with a heavy sigh. Feeling bad about Chris on top of everything else is probably the last thing he needs right now.

It vibrates again, insisting, and Jensen picks up.

“Hey. I’ve been meaning to call—”

“Are you gonna bother explaining why I’m getting picture texts of your dick from people I used to play football with?” Chris cuts him off.

Jensen rubs his temples. “I’m flattered you think my sex life is _that_ active, but I don’t think any football players on the team right now have seen my dick.”

“Sure looks like yours.”

“What, are you some kind of expert on cock now? Funny, since you still haven’t come out—”

“Jensen,” Chris hisses. “This isn’t about that. I’m being serious. I really think these pictures are of you. I can see your chin in a few of them and those are definitely your boxers.”

And then it hits him. Because now that he thinks about it, someone _has_ taken pictures of him. “W-what?”

“Yeah,” Chris says gravely.

“Who sent them?”

“Steve Carlson.”

“Steve—?”

“So, yeah. You wanna explain why Steve has those?”

“There might… be some incriminating pictures of me on someone’s phone,” Jensen says carefully. “But not Steve’s.”

“Padalecki,” Chris says under his breath. “He must’ve sent them out.”

“He wouldn’t,” Jensen says quickly. “Really, Chris, he wouldn’t do that—”

Would he?

“Well, he did, because I’m looking at them right now.”

Jensen blushes in spite of himself, scratching his neck. “Look, Chris, I was drunk and it was just one of those things.”

“Just one of those things you do with someone you’re not dating. Let them take pictures of you naked, lying out on a bed,” Chris says flatly. “When I have to beg you just to come home for a weekend.”

“It was stupid, it was just a dare. Those weren’t even supposed to be, like, _hot_ or anything.”

“Y’know, you’re not the person I thought you were.”

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does to hear Chris say it, because it’s true. Jensen’s known for a long time that Chris is interested in the kid he’d been a few years ago, not the guy who fucked around with two people at the same time, not the guy who couldn’t decide what he wanted.

“Chris, don’t. It didn’t mean—” but Jensen can’t finish his sentence. The pictures might not mean anything, but he sure as hell remembers watching Jared jack off while he was on the phone with Chris, not really listening to anything Chris said. He remembers falling asleep with his fingers wrapped in Jared’s hair and remembers waking up in the morning and kissing him until his lips were swollen.

He remembers saying, _I need this_ and realizing how true it was, even if he was scared.

“I’m not the jealous type, Jen, but this is getting ridiculous. If you don’t want to bother with me anymore just say so. I feel like a fucking chump.”

Which is fair. Yet, somehow, Jensen feels like a chump, too, when he says sorry again.

“It’s a little too late, Jen. I don’t even know why I thought this could work. You’re just a kid, and you obviously have no idea what you want.”

“Look, Chris, it’s not like we were datingor anything. You didn’t seem to want that, either,” Jensen says, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

“You don’t know shit about what I want,” Chris growls.

“Yeah? And whose fault is that?” Jensen snaps back.

“I wanted _you,_ Jen. I came back for _you._ I didn’t think there’d be a waiting list—”

“Please,” Jensen says. “As if I ever put anyone before you.”

But his stomach drops. Chris had never said he came back for Jensen. He doesn’t know what to believe, if Chris is trying to make him feel bad, or if it’s true. 

“At the football game, the way you—” Chris breaks off, obviously angry with himself. “Just forget it.”

“The way I what?” Jensen swallows.

“Tell Padalecki I said hi, will you? And to be more careful with your dick pics in the future.”

“Chris—”

“Call me when you turn eighteen or figure out what you want,” Chris says, acid in his voice. “Whichever comes first.”

He hangs up. It’s kind of funny because, for once, Chris is the one being the drama queen, but what he said is genuinely digging at Jensen, and then there’s the issue of his nudes circulating the school at this very moment which is only a little heart-stoppingly fucked up.

Jensen walks through the double doors at the end of the hall, half-expecting it to set off some kind of alarm, but it doesn’t.

He follows the path that leads to the dorms without a destination in mind. He breathes in the cold, expelling vapor from his mouth and shivering in his uniform.

He walks until his feet start to hurt, taking the long way through campus. The trees are bare now, skeletal limbs stretching to the clear, faded blue sky. Jensen keeps moving, one foot in front of the other, trying to blot out the sound of Chris’ voice, the knowledge that today could well be his last day at school, depending on how fast Kripke moved to notify the administration.

By the last bell rings after what must be a couple of hours, echoing through the empty grounds, Jensen’s sitting on a bench at the tree line, windswept and cold. Grayish purple clouds are setting in and the sun is already starting to sink.

He gets up again, not wanting to run into anyone he knows and follows the road out of Eldridge’s gates, heading towards the suburbs. It’s after school hours and no one can chastise him for leaving as long as he’s back before curfew.

His shoes pound on the pavement and the wind picks up. He passes row after row of houses with decorative shutters and stylish stone fronts, past a playground he used to come to with Sophia when they had free time. Of course, they never have free time anymore.

Meanwhile, the shadows lengthen and the sky turns a softer blue shot through with yellow. He already has to turn around or walk home in the dark.

He makes a quick decision and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

 _Meet me in the gym in twenty minutes._ Jensen has trouble typing out the text, his fingers are shaking so badly.

Jared might ignore the text, mistaking it for some kind of hookup attempt, but he shows up after about ten minutes after Jensen, long hair disheveled by the wind.

His cheeks are chafed pink and he unwinds a black scarf from around his neck as he walks towards Jensen. He’s wary and unsmiling, and just for a moment, Jensen’s stomach clenches with how odd it is for Jared to be so tired when he could be grinning like usual with Jensen kissing the smile right off him.

But then he remembers why he brought him here.

“You _said._ ”

“I said what?” Jared blinks.

“The pictures,” Jensen says. “The ones you took of me. That night when we were drinking.”

Jared waves his hand for him to go on.

“You _sent_ them to people. After you promised you wouldn’t—”

Jared almost grins. “Good one, Ackles. What’s this really about?”

“You think this is funny?” Jensen snarls.

“Are you… are you being serious?”

“The fuck do you think?”

Jared goes pale and takes out his phone, scrolling through his sent messages.  

“It had to be someone on the team. Practice was the only time I didn’t have my phone on me.”

“So I’m supposed to believe that you just left your phone lying around and someone happened to find those pictures and thought it’d be a great idea to forward them to all your contacts?”

“What, you think _I’m_ thrilled about this?”

“How could this possibly have anything to do with you?” Jensen snaps.

“They came from _my_ phone, Ackles, in case you forgot.”

“So fucking what? My _junk_ is circulating the entire school. Jesus Christ, Jared.”

“Nobody knows it’s you,” Jared hisses. “You can’t see your face in the pictures.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out,” Jensen says. “Shit, it was enough for Chris to know and I’m sure he’s not the only one. What if the school calls my mom?”

Jared snorts. “And says what? ‘Excuse us, ma’am, but your son’s balls have been circulating campus lately?’”

“Why are you being such an asshole about this?” Jensen asks, but he understands even as he says it.

“This isn’t about us at all,” he says slowly. “Genevieve’s gonna see those and she’s gonna know they’re from your phone. That’s what you’re worrying about.”

Jared colors.

“I—”

Jensen laughs. “I can’t even believe this. Wow, Padalecki. Just… wow.”

“Jensen, it’s not about that—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not, I just—”

“Stop. Stop talking, Jared.”

Jared does, falling silent and looking at him warily.

 “You wanted this,” Jensen says slowly.

The pieces have all been there, staring him in the face since day fucking one. He just didn’t want to see them; was too concerned with getting his dick sucked and being wrapped up in all the bullshit Padalecki fed him about _them._

He’s starting to see it now. There was never any “them” at all. At least not the way he thought.

“Wanted what? Your balls to be all over campus?”

“Genevieve. Tom, and Sandy.”

“What?” Jared blinks.

“I don’t believe this,” Jensen laughs, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, I knew you were fucked in the head, but _this…_ ”

Jared freezes, his eyes narrowed. He doesn’t say anything.

“I can’t believe you’ve had me going this long. But hey, it must’ve been nice to have an extra hand getting you off, huh?”

“What are you talking about?” Jared asks with his brow furrowed.

“This whole thing. It’s never been about me, or you, or even us getting back at Tom.”

Jared doesn’t say anything.

“You only wanted Tom out of the picture to get at Cortese. And Sandy was right there, a perfect scapegoat so you could move in on Tom’s girl.” Jensen laughs. “And, hey, you made me look like a jackass and Sandy look like a skank on top of it. Looks like you’re getting everything you wanted all along.”

Jensen’s blood is rising into a boil, scalding and turning his face red.

“Musta been nice when you realized how easy it’d be to get me on your side; have me do your dirty work and jerk you off, too. Guess it was a perfect arrangement,” he spits. “And now you’re off Scot-free.”

Jared still isn’t speaking and Jensen hears more truth in his silence than any of the weak interruptions he’d tried to make.

“You said you didn’t owe Eldridge kids anything, that you weren’t sorry. I guess I didn’t realize I fit into that category, too.”

“Don’t be stupid, you’re not—”

“What, not like them?”

“Not really.”

“Bullshit, Padalecki. I’m the worst of the worst here and even I know it. I know I’m not the most likable person in the world but Jesus Christ, I thought I’d met someone who could handle that.”

“If you’d calm down for a fucking second—”

“I’m not calming down,” Jensen cuts him off, his voice rising in a way it hasn’t since he last spoke to Sophia. Maybe it’s because this conversation feels the same way that one did: like Jensen’s grasping at thin air. He really should’ve learned by now that trying to talk out his problems always ends with him being an idiot and the people he cares about turning their backs on him.

Even now he’s reaching and pushing at the same time, desperate for Jared to listen to him and tell him he’s wrong, but at the same time absolutely sure that he’s not doing it the right way. Jared’s not exactly the most susceptible person to threats at the best of times.

Either way Jensen loses.

Either he’s wrong and Jared walks out for the way Jensen’s talking to him now, or Jensen’s right and Jared walks out on him for the way he’s talking to him and goes after Genevieve with all he’s got. And hell, after all this, what pride does Jensen have left to lose?  

“You done?” Jared asks. His voice is quiet, almost overwhelmed by the rush of the heating system that whirrs in the gym. “You never trusted me at all, did you? That’s why you’ll sleep with Chris but not me, isn’t it?”

“If you think I—” Jensen spits, too angry to string together a proper sentence. “You—is that what’s bothering you so much? That I won’t _sleep_ with you? Is that why you won’t kiss me or even _look_ at me all of a sudden?”

“No,” Jared snaps back immediately. “Don’t try to pin this on me.”

Jensen’s starting to lose track of what exactly they’re even fighting about, all he knows is that he’s seeing red and Jared’s only making it easier to lash out.

“Also, you might be interested in the fact that Morgan keeps a hard copy of his grades.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Jared says stiffly, his shoulders heaving.

“Are you really that stupid?” Jensen hisses. “He’s going to know we changed grades. Which, I imagine, is an expellable offense.”

Jared doesn’t so much as blink.

“We’ve seriously breached the school’s privacy policy. In case it’s not getting through your thick skull, we’re in _deep_ shit, Padalecki.”

Jared’s mouth goes tight for a moment, his brow furrowing. Then he says, abruptly, “They’re not gonna kick you out. Not with your brains and your grades.”

“Yeah? How ‘bout your folks’ little _contributions_ to the school? And the sports? They need you. They’ve got a whole line of other geeks to take my place and then what?” Jensen’s yelling. He doesn’t know why, only that he needs to make Jared understand how fucking serious this is.

“I did this for _you._ I risked _everything_ for you, and now I’m gonna be the one to take the fall because you were too busy dicking around all year—”

Jared’s unrecognizable, his face blank and his hazel eyes hard and shining.

“You know what, Jensen?”

Jensen doesn’t know. Not at fucking all because everything’s moving so fast. He’s sticking a hand out the window of a speeding car and can’t pull it back in. He’s buffeted on all sides by shit he’s not ready to deal with, going downhill and gathering more momentum.

“I didn’t want it to be like this with you, but you just can’t fucking _let go,”_ Jared shakes his head. “I don’t know why I thought we could—that I—”

Jensen lets go of the wheel and puts his foot down on the gas. Might as well go out with a bang at this point.

“Don’t talk to me,” Jensen snaps.

“Fine with me,” Jared retorts, getting to his feet. “I’m done.”

“I mean it. For the rest of the year.”

It’s as though nothing’s changed between them. Like Jensen doesn’t know how Jared sounds when he comes, doesn’t know what he tastes like. Like he doesn’t know how it feels to kiss him, touch him, be praised by him.

Jared nods and one side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile like he’s hearing exactly what he expects. Or wants.

“It’s fine, Ackles. I know you’ve been waiting for this for a while now.”

“Waiting for what?”

“You won,” Jared shrugs. “You found a clean way to shake me off. You’ve been waiting for me to fuck up ever since Kane came back and you never, _ever_ let me in. You were just waiting for me to stop being useful.”

“You ever think, just for a _second,”_ Jensen breathes, “that I didn’t trust you because you’re a spoiled, fucked up sociopath?”

Jared’s jaw tightens and for a second Jensen wonders if he’s pushed him too far.

But then he smiles, and it’s just like before. Just like when he was Jared Padalecki, star lacrosse player who went out of his way to make life miserable for everyone he didn’t deem worthy. The boy sneering at him now isn’t the boy who fed him candy and kissed him by the pool—it’s someone else entirely, and Jensen has no problem tearing him apart.

But then Jared turns his back on him, walking away, still shaking his head.

Jensen watches Jared’s back as he strolls out of the gym, his good arm swinging at his side.

There’s a crease on the left sleeve of Jared’s uniform that Jensen wants to fix. Except it seems like every time he’s touched something lately, all he’s done is fuck it up.

 

*****

 

Jensen’s in the computer lab when he spots his chance to test Sophia’s story.

At lunch she’d said, _he doesn’t even know who you are._ But how could that be? He’d seen him around with Jared, and he’d had classes with Jensen since they started at Eldridge. Jensen had never gone out of his way to talk to Tom, but he’d never made an effort to hide his dislike for him either.

He had stayed after to finish a project for European History when he noticed Tom in the back row of computers, his brow furrowed as he glared at his screen.

Jensen clears his throat and gets to his feet, acting like he’s waiting for something to print while checking out what Tom’s doing. It looks like a spreadsheet, maybe for a math class.

Tom’s moved on to tapping his fingers on the table and giving little annoyed huffs every thirty seconds or so.

Jensen edges nearer. “You need help with that?”

For a moment, Tom just looks at him blankly. It’s sort of surreal, like he’s see-through or something. He clears his throat and Tom finally nods.

“Your name’s Ackles, right?”

“Yeah,” Jensen swallows.

It’s just like the scene in the hallway all those months ago when he’d bumped into Jensen. He’s sort of gaping at Tom and his stomach bottoms out.

Sophia was right. Despite all his book smarts and honors, Tom really is that clueless. Apart from his name, Tom doesn’t know who Jensen is.

Jensen clears his throat. “Do you need help with that?”

Tom shrugs, clearly not keen on the idea of having some computer geek leaning over him. Jensen ignores him and steps in anyways.

 “You just have to rearrange the columns like this…” Jensen hovers over Tom for a full five minutes or so, showing him how to make the chart and enter the proper formulas. He listens but obviously isn’t riveted by the information or the fact that Jensen’s telling him what to do.

Finally, Jensen backs off, leaving Tom to his own devices. He squints at the screen for a while, then makes the corrections Jensen suggested.

“Thanks,” Tom grunts, not looking at him.

And that’s it. There’s no added malice, no sneering comments.

Jensen nods and gathers his books into his bag, making for his dorm at top speed. He doesn’t want to think it, but he does anyways.

He had only agreed to Jared’s plan because he thought the way he hated Tom was mutual, and what if Jared had known all along that Jensen was acting the idiot? What if from the beginning, he knew Jensen had issues with Tom and knew that he could use it to manipulate him? To get him to do what he wanted?

After all, it’s not like Jensen’s come out of their deal looking good in any way, shape, or form. He’d always kept his sexuality quiet, yet since he became involved with Jared, there are pictures of his dick that he’d let another guy take all over the school. He’d been late for classes, he’d jeopardized his relationships with Chris and his friends. He’d broken more rules than he ever had in his life all within the space of a few short months and he’d done all of it because of the fucked up deal he’d made with Jared.

More and more it’s looking like anyone who ever got on the wrong side of Jared Padalecki is paying for it all at once, and maybe Jared’s a lot more organized than Jensen’s ever given him credit for.


	13. Thirteen

_I am trying to break your heart_   
_Still I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t easy_   
_I am trying to break your heart_

The next few days are nothing short of hell. Any day the administration is going to find out what he did and he wonders what’s taking them so long.

Jensen’s torn every single time he sees Jared between a fierce desire to punch him or jump him—he could go either way.

Jared sits in the first three rows of every class they have together, yet never near enough for Jensen to talk to him. He participates in class, stays awake, and takes notes. The bags under his eyes are more pronounced than usual; otherwise he gives no indication that he’s unhappy. He laughs and talks too loud like always.

Because he’s the worst kind of masochist, Jensen makes a My Morning Jacket playlist. _Golden_ hits him in all the worst places; makes him miss driving in Jared’s Tahoe back when everything was, if not easy, at least comfortable.

He jacks off more than he ever has in a week, mostly in the shower, where he can be as loud as he wants. When orgasm washes over him, he experiences a few blistering moments of heat, of forgetting about Jared and how not being able to smell him, feel him up close and taste him is like being offered water when he’s starving.

He can’t remember the last time he felt so lousy. Maybe when Chris left, but even then there was nothing he could’ve done to fix it and he had plenty of distractions. True, there were a million things he’d imagined doing differently that would’ve made Chris stay (kissing him sooner, not kissing him at all, being less obvious, less needy), but he knew there was no way he could’ve stopped Chris if he’d made up his mind to leave.

This time it’s entirely on him.

He should’ve seen it. His pride had blinded him to the most obvious signs. He’d wanted to believe someone like Jared was interested in him; that he was attractive and capable and desirable. He’d let Jared wind him up and he’d _liked_ it, Hell, he’d said he _needed_ it.

Padalecki had probably laughed his ass off behind Jensen’s back. While Jensen had been feeling smug about himself, Jared had gotten him to do everything he wanted—his homework, the pranks on Tom, and even had Jensen to suck him off to sweeten the deal. And if he’d cared about Jensen at all, it was probably nothing compared to how he felt about Genevieve.

Jensen had never needed Jared to lovehim, or anything, but knowing their mutual respect had meant nothing in the end was a slap in the face that Jensen couldn’t bear quietly.

If there’s one thing he hates, it’s looking stupid. Worse than that, he _feels_ stupid. He feels like the world’s biggest idiot, and on top of it, he’s lost his best friend and Chris, too. 

Rumors fly left and right about Jared now but the stares are all directed at Jensen, whispers passing behind hands every time he walks down the hall.

“I just wish I knew what they were waiting for,” Jensen growls, leaning against a locker and shooting a couple of freshmen a filthy look. They scurry off to class, giggling and looking over their shoulders at him.

“Well, most of them think you made the whole thing up about you and Jared, and that you sent him those pictures because you were, like desperate,” Danneel says, frowning. “And some of them think Jared just wanted to walk on the wild side because he was bored.”

“Trust me, he did more than walk on it,” Jensen mutters. “I guess he can get away with it because he’s _popular.”_

“I know. It’s not fair. But fuck them. Who cares what they think?”

“Don’t you?” Jensen asks, fixing his gaze on her. “How come you haven’t told anyone how you feel about Genevieve?”

Danneel looks at him, the expression on her face almost pitying. “What did I have to gain by saying shit, Jensen? She was always going to get with Padalecki.”

Jensen drops her gaze. So Danneel hadn’t been as stupid as him. She never believed for a second that she had a shot with Genevieve when he’d been hanging all over Jared.

Danneel reaches out to rest her hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Jensen. I know everyone thinks you’re an asshole, but you aren’t. At least not as much as you think you are.”

“Thanks, I think.”

He doesn’t need or want anyone’s sympathy, but he can appreciate honesty. Danneel’s obviously not one hundred percent on his side and he doesn’t need her to be.

He’s back to square one. If he wants to move forward, he’s going to have to put his blinders back on and focus on the finish line. He’s alone in the race and he was stupid to let himself think he wasn’t.  
 

*****

 

The call to the headmaster’s office comes on Friday, the last day before Christmas break. No one in his class bothers with _ooh_ ing when he gets up. They must assume he’s won yet another award and is getting a pat on the head. 

He takes a seat in the hall outside the headmaster’s office and waits, his legs crossed. He expects it to be short, that he’ll be called in as soon as the receptionist sees him. But no, they keep him waiting. First ten minutes. Then twenty. Then twenty-five.

From the outside he looks impassive. The only thing that would give him away is how he can’t stop worrying his bottom lip because he ran out of mints fifteen minutes ago.

His palms are sweating and he wipes them on his khakis, letting his head fall back against the wall. There’s no clean way to end this. He lost control and he’s paying for it. Hell, he _gave_ his control away, laid it right out at Padalecki’s feet.

He doesn’t know what to expect once he’s called in, but he knows it’s going to take some quick thinking and probably a lot of lying.

So he thinks of a list—pros, and cons.

 

*****

 

Jensen sits in the rickety chair in the lobby for half an hour before the door swings open and Jared comes out with a man who’s presumably his father.

Mr. Padalecki is tall like his son and his eyes are darker. They have the same pointed nose and strong jaw. He casts Jensen an appraising look, his lip curled at the corner as he sweeps Jared out and away from the boy he thinks ruined his son. It’s probably partly true. Jared might not’ve taken things so far without an accomplice— especially an accomplice he was all but fucking on the side.

“Jensen Ackles? The headmaster will see you now.”

Jensen gets to his feet and starts the walk towards his fate. Jared doesn’t so much as look at him, just follows his father with his gaze fixed straight ahead. But as they brush past each other, Jensen feels knuckles ghost against his. He has no way of knowing if Jared meant to do it, or if the hall’s too narrow to allow Jared to totally skirt around him.

Jensen takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes against the acid rising from his stomach. He tries not to think about how it seeps through him, around his heart and through his blood, eating away at his resolve, and steps inside Larson’s office.

The room is cavernous with two tall windows on each side. The headmaster’s desk is positioned in front of a pane of glass that takes up most of the back wall, a massive window with a view of the entire valley beneath the school.

He’s never noticed how easily his school could pass as Hogwarts and he has to choke back a laugh. He straightens his features into what he hopes is passably neutral.

Dr. Larson glances up from his paperwork at the sound of Jensen’s footsteps. It’s every “kid gets in trouble” scene Jensen’s ever watched in a movie, right down to the “Have a seat, Mr. Ackles.”

He does.

Jensen rarely sees the headmaster on campus, and never this close. He’s old, but still gives off the impression of strength. His voice is a quiet rasp and his hair is light gray, his eyes a pale blue accentuated by the navy vest under his suit coat.

Larson takes off his reading glasses and wipes them on his suit coat. “I’ve never had the pleasure of having you in my office, Jensen.”

“No, sir.”

Jared would die if he heard those words out of Larson’s mouth. Jensen can just imagine him wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. In fact, he’s surprised Jared’s never tried to fuck him in here. Which is not at all an appropriate thought to be having when he’s about to get his head cut off by the school’s senior executioner.

“If I didn’t have express proof of your involvement in recent events, I wouldn’t have believed it possible. You’ve been an asset to this school and a model student.”

 “Thank you, sir.”

Jensen shifts in his seat, coloring at the disappointment in Larson’s voice. It doesn’t matter that he thinks the guy’s a soulless old gargoyle. Given the chance, Jensen would probably be able to explain it away. Jared could, too—and probably did.

“Tom Welling has been in my office lately to file complaints about Jared Padalecki, Mr. Ackles. Were you aware of this?”

“No,” Jensen says truthfully.

“And I had Mr. Padalecki himself in my office just now, do you know why that is?”

“No,” Jensen says again, trying to keep his tone level.

Jensen’s stomach turns over. The way Jared’s been acting the past few weeks, so unlike himself, averting his eyes when Jensen’s around, keeping his head down in class almost like he’s embarrassed.

Or ashamed.

In their very first conversation, Jared had said _I’m gonna do what I have to._ Never mind the rest, because Jared always covered his own ass, the way Jensen would’ve in his position. What if he’d already ratted Jensen out for everything?

“After Dr. Kripke notified me that someone had tampered with the school’s online grading system, he was able to track the changes. The only ones made were to Tom Welling’s grades and Jared Padalecki’s. Yet it was your IP address that Dr. Kripke traced.”

“Yes, sir,” Jensen says, unsure of how much he should give away yet.

“And I asked myself, why would a student like yourself risk expulsion for a student like Mr. Padalecki, a student on the brink of expulsion?”

Jensen doesn’t trust himself to speak. He nods instead and Larson goes on.

“We’ve already had complaints about Jared Padalecki and bullying. Which leads me to believe that you aren’t entirely to blame for what’s happened to Tom Welling.”

Jensen looks up from his lap. He’s starting to sense where this is going.

“If you tell us the truth, Jensen, we’ll do what we can to let you continue your advanced studies. I would hate for such a bright pupil to fall by the wayside because of some juvenile pranks. After all,” Larson smiles, “Boys will be boys.”

Jensen’s heart skips a beat and he can feel his flush deepening. He’s being given a chance and worming his way out of trouble’s been a talent of his since he was six.

In fifth grade, he’d pushed Tyler Herron over on the playground and got sent to the principal’s office. He’d cried and blubbered and swore up and down that he didn’t do it. They’d believed him and his wide green eyes because Jensen didn’t _seem_ like a liar.

Tyler was told off for fibbing and had his recess taken away while Jensen played tag with the rest of his classmates. Jensen hadn’t felt all that bad. Actually, it was the opposite. He’d been relieved, heavy with the same sick triumph a shoplifter feels walking past detectors Scot-free.

He hadn’t gotten any better with age judging by the rush he got from pranking Tom. He’d gotten away with it over and over, let the adrenaline rule his better judgment. He’d had chances to quit while he was ahead and he hadn’t.

Against all odds, he has a chance to walk away again, offered up on a silver platter as long as he presents Jared’s head instead of his own. He doesn’t owe Jared anything.

It’s too easy.

Larson leans in closer, a gesture meant to be comforting, but his piercing eyes are unnerving. “Jensen, I know you want to protect your friend…”

Jensen almost laughs. After all they’ve been through, what they’ve done to each other; Jared isn’t what he’d call a friend. It’s too tangled up. He’s something more, but still less.

“All due respect, sir, Padalecki’s not my friend.”

Larson laces his fingers together on the desk. “And what do you mean by that, Mr. Ackles? From what I understand, Mr. Padalecki can be… forceful. Did he threaten you or put you in any position that made you uncomfortable?”

“No, nothing like that,” Jensen says hastily. “Just… you know, he has a lot of friends. And I…” he trails off and looks down at his shoes. He’s milking it hard now, and if his story’s going to crack, this is what might do it. “He’s really, um, popular and stuff.”

“Is that why you were tutoring him, Jensen? You wanted to be in his group?”

“Yeah,” Jensen says, swallowing. “I got to sit with them at lunch, and, you know.”

“I understand,” Larson says with a private smile. “Students can be unforgiving towards those that stand out. Especially when they themselves are not succeeding at your level.”

Jensen nods, feeling vaguely nauseous. Funnily enough, he recognizes that all the stuff coming out of Larson’s mouth isn’t too far from what Jensen’s always said about himself; that he’s special, misunderstood, deserving of some kind of favoritism.

“However, it’s come to my attention that there might have been another situation between you and Mr. Padalecki.”

Jensen freezes in his chair. His palms might actually be dripping onto the floor. Of all the things for Larson to get right…

Instead of his life flashing before his eyes, Jensen gets bits of the last four months—on his knees in front of Jared in the locker room, Jared’s face in his lap during Geology, kissing him for the first time with his legs dangling in the pool, the taste of peppermint and salt from Jared’s fingers. Truth or dare in his dorm.

“Even with the best of intentions, completing another student’s homework qualifies as cheating, Mr. Ackles, and would result in expulsion if this wasn’t a special case.”

Jensen’s breath rushes out of him again. “Yes, sir.”

“Your Calculus teacher, thankfully, has been most helpful in my ruling. He has vouched for you over and over again in this matter and thinks it would be wise to make an exception for you. In fact, I’ve called him to my office to join us.”

As if on cue, Dr. Morgan steps through the door, his steps soft on the thick carpet. He’s dressed in a dark Henley with a long-sleeved shirt underneath, as casual as Jensen’s ever seen him. Still, he commands respect without having to raise his voice or draw attention to himself.

“Good afternoon, Jeff. Jensen and I were just discussing the repercussions he’s facing.”

Dr. Morgan nods. Jensen would never be able to think of him as _Jeff._ “Well, you know where I stand in this case. Jensen’s a good student. It doesn’t surprise me that other kids were taking advantage of his abilities.”

His dark eyes linger on Jensen and he feels himself flush red all over. Morgan’s holding Jensen’s future in his hands and he owes Jensen absolutely nothing. Morgan’s always gone out of his way for him, always given him the benefit of the doubt, but Jensen had cheated and taken advantage of his trust, there’s no way around it.

“Thus far, the school board’s decision is that Mr. Ackles’ scholarships should be revoked until we see fit. We think it would be good for him to re-learn the values of this school: hard work, and dedication and _excellence.”_ He emphasizes the last word, his light eyes fixed on Jensen, who’s trying his best to hold his gaze. “As long as Jensen has your vote of confidence, we will allow him to continue his studies here at Eldridge on probationary status.”

Dr. Morgan leans back against the wall, his brow furrowed. Jensen can’t stand to look at him. His face burns and he wonders if he’ll sink through the floor with the weight of that stare on him.

“He didn’t violate any other policies to my knowledge, Dr. Larson.”

Jensen’s eyes snap up to his teacher before he can stop himself. Morgan’s watching him with a slight frown but he doesn’t give anything else away. He has to know that Jensen’s been giving Jared the Calc tests in advance, now that he’s been exposed as a hacker and Jared’s accomplice.

“In any case, Mr. Padalecki has accepted blame for everything that’s happened to Tom Welling, and he also told me it was his idea to hack both his and Tom’s grades. I’m glad to see your stories line up, Jensen. I knew you wouldn’t be involved in anything so petty.”

Jensen’s blood runs cold.

Jared responsible for everything? He wasn’t supposed to do that. He was supposed to blame Jensen for at least _something_ , the bits he couldn’t possibly have pulled off on his own. And the hacking? No way he could’ve done it, especially in comparison to Jensen who’s won awardsfor programming.

“I’m going to ask you a few more questions, Jensen, and then we’ll wrap this up. Did Jared use your laptop to alter his own grades?”

“Yes,” Jensen says quietly, blood pounding in his ears.

“Were you aware that he was going to do it?”

“No, sir. He told me he needed to use my computer to write a report.”

“And did he also make changes to Tom Welling’s reports?”

“Yes,” Jensen says. His voice doesn’t waver. “He told me afterwards.”

Larson’s smarter than that. He’s got to know that Padalecki couldn’t have…

And it hits Jensen. Larson _does_ know. He just doesn’t care.

Jared’s already on probation and injured on top of it. He was flagged in the school’s system, not doing anything for the school’s rep. Jensen, meanwhile, keeps churning out scholarship-worthy work and winning recognition for Eldridge.

But maybe this is part of Jared’s final coup. He had to know he was going to be kicked out, so why not go out as a martyr? Everyone in the school would hear his side of the story; everyone would think he was a righteous little hero compared to Jensen. This is his chance to make everyone forget the rumors that had been flying about him.

Jensen doesn’t know what to think, what to believe, and Larson’s already pushing his chair back and getting to his feet, gesturing Jensen to the door.

“Very well, Mr. Ackles, you’re free to go. We’ll be in touch with your parents soon. Have a good holiday.”

“Yes, sir.” He doesn’t bother to correct Larson’s plural use of _parents._ Jensen staggers to his feet, not looking at Larson or Morgan but making a beeline for the door, hardly able to believe his luck.  

 

*****

 

Jensen catches Sophia outside in The Circle, loading her car with suitcases. She usually drives back to New York after the semester ends to spend Christmas with her family—or at least in the same house as her family. Her parents threw a lot of holiday parties, but that was it as far as Christmas celebrations went.

“Hey, Soph.”

She turns and gives him a weak smile. “You survived.”

“Padalecki took the blame for everything, he—”

“I heard,” Sophia says, not meeting his eyes. Eldridge’s rumor mill must be running at double speed today.

“I’m free,” Jensen says, spreading his arms with a smile. “Back on top.”

Sophia smiles back, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay, Jen.”

But she doesn’t look like it.

“You okay?” Jensen asks, not sure if he wants to hear the answer.

“Yeah, it’s just… Jared’s been expelled. I’m sure you heard. Chad’s been telling anyone who’ll listen.”

“Expelled,” Jensen repeats.

“What’d you expect?” Sophia shrugs.

Nothing, really. He’d been too busy trying to cover his own ass to watch out for Jared’s, too.

“It was Jared’s idea to hack into the system,” Jensen says, somewhat lamely.

“Was it his idea to mess with Tom’s grades, too?”

“No,” Jensen admits. “But I would’ve been tagged in the system by then anyways with the way Misha set up security.”

“Did you tell them that?”

“Not exactly.”

“What _did_ you tell them?” Sophia asks, her tone mild.

Jensen shrugs. No matter what he says, he’s not going to come out looking like a hero, but it doesn’t matter. He’s keeping his place in school and that’s what’s most important.

“How could you do that, Jensen? I knew you were being stupid but part of me hoped it was because you and Jared—because I thought you _had_ something.”

“Had something?” Jensen repeats stupidly. Yeah, they’d had something. Blowjobs, pranks, and a few laughs here and there. It was what it was and it’s over _._

“I guess part of me was hoping you were holding on to that grudge because it meant you were holding on to being with Jared, too. Because you and him? That was the only part of that mess that made any kind of sense.”

“Soph,” Jensen scoffs. “He was just _using_ me. I mean, look at us now.”

“You sure _he_ was the one using _you_?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jensen asks, his cheeks coloring despite the cold.

“You let him take the fall, after everything that happened between you?”

“Well, yeah. I told him that’s how it would be if we got caught, way back in the beginning of the year. He didn’t have to say it was _all_ him, but he did. I’m not looking this one in the mouth.”

Sophia bites her lip. Bizarrely, she looks like she’s about to cry. “For someone so smart, you can be really, _really_ fucking stupid sometimes.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Jensen tries to smile but it comes out as a grimace.

“I’m on your side, Jensen. I’m always on your side. But lately I’ve been wondering if you need anyone on it. You’re gonna go far and do some amazing things, I know it, but I just don’t think there’s room for anyone else up there at the top with you.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jensen says, reaching out for her hand. She lets him hold it for a moment, squeezes back, then drops his grip. “I’ll always have room for you.”

Sophia shakes her head. “I don’t think I believe you. I don’t know what to think about you anymore.”

“Sophia, you’re my best friend. Jared was just, he didn’t mean anything—”

“He did, Jen. I was just waiting for you to see it. He was, too.”

“Wha—?”  Jensen splutters, staring at her. “He picked a girl over me, he—”

“And you picked Chris over him.”

“Chris isn’t even talking to me anymore.”

Sophia shrugs. “Maybe he got tired of waiting for you, too.”

She turns his back on him, slamming the trunk of her Volkswagen shut. “I’ll see you in January. Have a good Christmas, Jen.”

 He watches her start her car and pull out into the street, the tires of her car crunching on the salt laid down on the road.

Jensen stands alone in The Circle, breath coming out in puffs of vapor before his eyes. His legs are shaking, so he sits down on one of the deck chairs and watches the crowd of students heading home for break. They move in packs, laughing, chatting, shoes crunching on the morning frost.

 _Had something._ That’s a loaded phrase if ever there was one.

Jensen’s always _had something._ He’s had school, coding, and his future to think about. He’s had his mother to make proud, his brother to outshine. He’s had Sophia to set him straight, to scheme with him. He’s had Misha to help him out and to make him uncomfortable. He’d had Jared to amuse, to make laugh and come undone. He’d had Jared to put candy between his lips, to make him feel like he belonged; to get him off and kiss him, tell him he’s _perfect._ He’d had Chris, who liked him and looked out for him even after he came back and maybe actually wanted to be with him.

He’d _had._ The phrase sounds funny in his head, the words too alike. Past tense, but how could it be when it’d all happened so fast? Surely he couldn’t lose so much of that because of one decision? Especially one everyone knew he would make. Sophia’s disgust had merely been dramatics. She’d known Jensen longer than anyone else at Eldridge; had to know that he’d done what he thought was best. He had so much more to lose than Padalecki did—Jared didn’t even take school seriously enough to try anymore.

Jensen huddles deeper into his peacoat. The clouds overhead are knitting together in a uniform gray.

If he’s going to do this, he’ll have to hurry.

Jensen gets to his feet to start the trek over to Marshall. The path around The Circle’s slick with ice, the air charged with the coming storm. The flurries have started by the time he makes it down the hill at the far side of campus.

Puffy white flakes drop into the neck of his coat, puddles of freezing water soaking into the wool while he waits outside the double doors.

Jensen only has to wait for five minutes before the doors swing open and someone staggers out with a full hamper of laundry to bring home. Move out day looks the same every year.

Jensen’s about to cross the threshold of Marshall when the hamper says his name.

 “Ackles?”

 “Uh…yeah?”

Chad pokes his head out from behind the dirty clothes.

Great. Probably the last (or second to last, the last being the one he’s here for) person Jensen wants to see right now.

Chad stares at him for a full twenty seconds before saying anything.

“He’s already gone. Wish he wasn’t so I could watch him kick your ass, but hey, Christmas is coming and I haven’t been too shitty this year. Could still get my wish.”

“Yeah. You could,” Jensen replies and lets the doors slam behind him so they hit Chad with their full weight. Chad yelps on the other side and yells what Jensen figures is an obscenity directed at him.

He climbs two flights of stairs and walks down the empty hall anyways. It’s eerie and silent without the bros yelling their heads off.

Jensen glances at room 319 and bypasses it. He paces up and down the hall for a good ten minutes, trying to get a grip on the buzzing in his head.

He hears raised voices coming from somewhere outside and walks to the snowy window, glancing down into the parking lot.

Chad and James Lafferty are standing by a green Honda Civic, James holding what looks like Chad’s Xbox 360. They seem to be yelling at each other, Chad gesticulating and James with his free hand on his hip. Jensen can’t make out a word but suddenly Chad’s Xbox is dropped in the snow, forgotten as Chad Murray kisses James against the Civic.

Jensen thinks he might be choking on his own saliva in shock by the time James starts kissing him back, swinging Chad around so he’s pressed against the car instead, his hands on Chad’s ass.

How long has this been going on? Did Jared know about it?

He thinks back on all the times he’s been around Chad. He never once struck him as gay, but then he always seemed to want to be around James.

“I guess you just never fucking know,” Jensen murmurs, backing away from the window and looking again at Jared’s room.

He takes a deep breath and steps towards it. He’s being a massive bitch and Jared’s probably already gone anyways.

Jensen stands outside 319 with his hands in his pockets. He can’t help wanting the door to swing open; wanting Jared to be lounging against the door frame with his hair all over the place and his stupid mug mocking Jensen for coming back.

The door does open a second later but it’s not Jared, like he knew it wouldn’t be.

Matt’s looking down at his phone and nearly runs into him.

“Shit, sorry Jensen. I, uh…”

Matt obviously doesn’t know what to say. Neither does Jensen because Matt _knows_. Eldridge’s rumor mill must’ve gotten even faster this year; he only got out of Larson’s office forty-five minutes ago.

“He’s gone,” Matt offers.

“Yeah, I know.” It makes him sound like he came back to sniff Jared’s belongings or something.

Matt makes a move as if to brush past Jensen and thinks better of it. The two of them stand outside 319, not looking at each other. Jensen remembers last year when he took Matt upstairs at an off-campus party. He was cute and really fit with big green eyes, just the type of guy Jensen needed at the time.

“Did he, uh, say anything about me before…?”

Matt laughs. “Sorry, man. I don’t think he’s had all that much time to think about you.”

“Right.”

What with the academic probation and getting kicked out of school and whatnot. Makes sense.

“How was he?”

Matt looks like Jensen’s offered to give him the Clap for Christmas. “Pretty bad, Jensen.”

Matt’s trying his best to be polite and it’s obviously slipping. Jensen’s an asshole for sticking around and asking him questions like a lovesick schoolgirl but he has to know.

“I’m sorry.”

“What’re you telling me for? Doesn’t do me any good.”

“I know. I just need to say it to someone.”

“Look, I swore I wasn’t going to get involved but,” Matt sighs and lets his bag drop to the floor. “You fucked up. Big time. I don’t think telling Jared’s _roommate_ you’re sorry counts for anything.”

“I know,” Jensen says again. “But I am. I didn’t know he’d do that and I’d stand here all night if I thought it’d help.”

“Well, I gotta get home, so…” Matt nudges his bag with his foot pointedly. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jensen steps back to let him pass.

Matt picks up his bag and walks past him, but hesitates in the hallway again, turning to face Jensen. “You know he has to go back to Texas, right?”

“He what?” Jensen swallows.

“What’d you think was gonna happen if he got kicked out?”

“I didn’t… think he would,” Jensen murmurs.

“Y’know I liked you, Jensen. A lot of people say you’re an asshole and I thought maybe they were wrong.” The fact that Matt’s using past tense is not lost on him. “But I had a bad feeling about things with you and Jay from the start, ‘cause you don’t seem to get it.”

Jensen doesn’t get it at all. “Get what?”

Matt just looks at him. “You must walk around with your eyes closed or something, man, I swear.”

“Seriously, what are you trying to guilt me for now?” Jensen snaps. “I’ve had enough of people trying to make me feel shitty today for things that aren’t their fuckingbusiness.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about _you._ There’s something wrong with you,” Matt says. “I don’t know what else it could be.”

To his horror, tears are starting to prickle at the backs of his eyes and he so cannot lose it right now in front of Jared’s _roommate._ But Matt’s always been a nice guy, and having pissed him off is somehow making everything sink home in a way it hadn’t before.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you just… chew people up.” Matt fixes his light green eyes on him and Jensen thinks he’s starting to get it.

“Is this… is this about what we did?”

Matt smiles bitterly. “You didn’t even look at me after that night.”

Jensen stares at him. He never thought there’d been any hard feelings. Sure, he hadn’t returned Matt’s calls, but there hadn’t been that many, and they’d had an understanding—or at least, Jensen thought they did. What happened between them was just a one-time thing, even though Jensen liked Matt well enough.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen offers.

“No, you’re not. I just hoped you weren’t gonna mess with Jay. Guess you’re still the same.”

“I’m not—I didn’t _mess_ with him, he was the one who—” Jensen’s pretty sure his mouth is hanging open like an idiot, but he can’t really be bothered with how he looks right now.

 “I didn’t think it was that serious ‘til I found the pictures. I never knew he even liked guys, but… I guess you have that effect on people.”

“What?” Jensen swallows the dry lump in his throat.

“He left his phone out during practice, and I knew you guys were doing more than he was letting on, but I didn’t think it was—” Matt breaks off, shaking his head.

“That was… that was _you?_ You sent those pictures out?”

Matt shrugs. “It was stupid and childish, and for that I’m sorry. But you don’t deserve anything from Jared and you never did.”

When Jensen sucked Matt Cohen off, it’d been up against someone’s bedroom door upstairs at a house party. He’d been drunk and alone, around guys for the first time since Chris had left. He’d spotted Matt across the room, tall and fit with big green eyes and a nice smile. He played lacrosse and ran track and that had been good enough for Jensen.

They’d talked and Matt kept bringing him drinks, flirting shamelessly, and then Jensen’s hand had been at the small of his back and he’d led him upstairs, dropping to his knees and pushing Matt up against the door.

Afterwards, Jensen had spent hours wrapped around the toilet in his dorm’s bathroom. That night wasn’t exactly on his Greatest Hits list and he’d tried his hardest to forget it.

Still, he never would’ve imagined that Matt had taken it that personally and at this point, Jensen doesn’t even have it in him to hate him. He just wants to go home.

Matt gives him one last, long look, leaving Jensen alone in the hallway again.

If he wasn’t completely stunned, he would’ve laughed. It’s almost funny how many people turned their backs on him in one day.

Jensen glances at the door of room 319 and decides to take a final look.

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he pushes the door open, but Jared’s side of the room is already bare and it’s actually organized for once. Matt’s belongings are packed neatly away in the once cluttered closet, and the walls are too white without Jared’s Cowboys pennants and Pearl Jam poster papering them.  

There’s nothing to suggest Jared Padalecki ever lived here, let alone kissed him on the bed that was now nothing but a bare mattress. There aren’t any paperbacks or dirty socks or candy wrappers littering the floor.

Jensen leans against the wall, watching the snow fall through the window. He’d gotten stoned for the first time with Jared here.

Struck by an idea, he crosses to Jared’s empty desk and opens the top drawer, pushing down on one end to dislodge the panel of wood that disguised the hidden compartment Chad had made for him. To his disappointment, there’s nothing but a fine layer of dust and a couple of dried out gummy bears.

 He puts his hands in his coat pockets, not sure what to make of the sick, dizzy wave washing over him. Maybe he’s finally coming off the adrenaline high from Larson’s office.

He starts to lean against the wall again when something in his pocket scrapes his fingers. Thinking it’s probably a crumpled notecard from exams or a receipt, he takes out the scrap of paper, barely glancing at it before beginning to wad it up when he suddenly recognizes there’s something written on it in small, messy handwriting that isn’t his own.

_I’m not who you think I am_

Jensen frowns, bewildered. How long has it been there? It wasn’t in his pocket that morning when he got dressed or during class. He can only think of one possibility.

There had been that moment in the hallway, right before Jensen had gone into Larson’s office, when Jared had brushed up against him. Could he have slipped it in without Jensen noticing? He’d been pretty freaked at the time.

So who does he supposedly think Jared is? Right now, a manipulative asshole—the same person he’d been since Jensen had learned his name.

Was it supposed to be an apology? Or a justification?

If this was his way of saying he couldn’t change his spots, he could shove it.

But what if it wasn’t that at all, what if he was saying Jensen was wrong about him? That he hadn’t done the things Jensen had accused him of? But then why be so damn cryptic about it? And even then, Jared could still be lying.

Jensen’s head throbs and he grits his teeth, closing his eyes and leaning against the bare wall.

Holding the note crumpled in his hand, he thinks about how another note like this one, an innocent scrap of paper with just Jared’s phone number on it, had started all of this.

 

*****

 

He might’ve gotten out of Larson’s office lucky, but as soon as he sets foot outside Marshall Hall, Jensen realizes he has someone else to answer to.

His mother’s silver Chevy is parked out in the lot, one of the few cars still left. The school must’ve called her already.

“Shit,” he mutters. Why can’t the universe cut him just _one_ break today?

Donna’s lips are drawn tight from the second she sets eyes on her son and Jensen tries his best to avoid her gaze.

“My car’s still in the lot—”

“We’ll come back for it tomorrow.”

“But I—”

“Get in, Jensen.” She murmurs.

He does, and her foot’s already on the gas before he has his seatbelt buckled. The snow swirls around them, so thick he can hardly see out the windshield when she accelerates.

Donna doesn’t say a word to him for a full twenty minutes. Jensen watches the time tick by on the dashboard clock, afraid to break the silence. He’s never seen her like this. She doesn’t so much as look at him. She leaves the radio off and drives with her hands tight on the wheel. The traffic crawls on the roads, windshields whitewashed with the oncoming storm.

Jensen keeps waiting for the explosion but it doesn’t come. He wants it to, wants a chance to defend himself because everything he did, he did for a reason.

He’d been honest from the beginning, told Jared he’d watch his own back. Why should he feel guilty?

But everyone’s pissed at him. The knot in his stomach that Jared’s fingers used to tease out is tighter than ever, like it’s been reinforced with steel twine to protect the strings frayed by Jared’s touch. He’s satisfied that he’s shut down every vulnerable part of himself. His walls are back in place, stronger than before, and this should all be a reminder to him. He shouldn’t have trusted any of them—not Jared, not Sophia, and even Chris had fallen short. He should’ve kept his head down and his eyes straight ahead.

“Jensen, you’re gay,” Donna finally says. It’s not a question so Jensen doesn’t respond.

She nods. “And Jared?”

Jensen shrugs and Donna looks straight ahead. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about, anyways.”

“I know.”

“He’s important to you, isn’t he?”

“He was,” Jensen says, his voice almost lost under the noise of the heat blasting out of the vents.

“And he’s been expelled?”

“Yes.”

Donna’s eyes flick back to the road. “Because of something you did?”

“Yeah,” Jensen swallows. “I mean, he wasn’t totally innocent. But.”

“But you let him take the fall?”

“Yeah,” he says again.

Donna nods slowly. “And why would you do that?”

Jensen’s gut gives a quick twist of shame. No matter how he spins it, he doesn’t look good. _Because he broke up with me for a girl even though we weren’t dating_ _and I was seeing someone else too_ sounds just as bad as _because I have a better chance at getting into college than he does so I let him get in trouble._

In the end, he stays quiet.

“I haven’t seen you act like this in a long time,” Donna says, weary. “You’re a smart kid, Jen. Too smart for me. I never knew what to do with you when you were growing up. I’ve been lucky that you’ve got such good judgment on your own. I’ve never really had to worry about you like your brother.”

She makes a right turn, tires spinning slightly on the icy road.

“You’re going to tell me everything. It doesn’t have to be today, but we’re going to talk like adults and you’re going to take responsibility for what you’ve done, even if that _place_ ,” she cringes as though the mere thought of Eldridge is offensive, “decides that you’re above their rules. You are not above mine.”

Jensen nods.

“You’re grounded until I see fit. I’m going to take away your phone and your computer and I’m going to keep you busy all break. If you so much as roll your eyes at me, you will be sorry. Are we clear?”

Jensen looks down at his Chucks and nods. “Clear.”

“Good.”

So this is it. This is the end. Today is the last day he’ll ever see Jared Padalecki and he still has so much to say him, half of it vicious and the other half pleading. A sharp-edged fury sits in his chest when he thinks about Jared turning his face away when Jensen leaned in, because he _knows_ they weren’t finished. Not really.

Jared might be serious about Genevieve now but there’s a space carved inside him with Jensen’s name on it and he knows it.

He remembers Thanksgiving, when Jared asked him _when are you going to let go?_

And hadn’t he now? Wasn’t this what Jared meant? He’d stopped holding on to everyone and everything so desperately. He’d lost it all, whether he wanted to or not, and he’s still standing.

His fingers tighten around the wad of paper in his pocket.

He’s realizing that, in the back of his mind, he’d already started planning that trip to Texas to visit him. Gazing out at the snow he imagines wide open plains and hot winds, the desert sun on Jared’s skin. 

Jared’s expelled from Eldridge. No more lacrosse, no more classes with Dinwiddie. He’s going back to Texas to face whatever he was so threatened by that he came to Jensen for help. 

_I’m not who you think I am._

No matter what he tells himself, Jensen can’t dismiss the creeping feeling that he’s made a terrible mistake. Because deep down, in a place not so far from the messy knot Jared made of his insides, next to all the hurt and anger, is something else he never wanted to feel again.

Donna can berate him all she wants, the school could’ve thrown him out—but nothing will cut as much as not knowing what that brush of skin meant in the hallway outside Larson’s office. Nothing will cut like the feeling of Jared turning away from him, and even if it wasn’t his choice, Jared leaving.

 

*****

 

Jared stares out the small port window of the plane, trying his hardest to ignore the annoyance crackling off his father in the seat next to him.

He keeps swirling his scotch around in the glass, the ice clinking threateningly.

Jared’s a bad investment, and there’s nothing Gerald Padalecki hates more than making a poor business decision. It’s not his fault, but Jared’s mistakes reflect on him anyways.

For a hot, fleeting moment, Jared doesn’t care, thinks about telling his father to shove it, but the rebellious impulse dies the second he remembers that he doesn’t even have anything worth fighting him over.

If Gerald taught him anything, it’s that gambling is a fool’s game. He’d watched his father wine and dine his way into the casino business, carving himself a niche that widened with patience and well-placed cash. Every mistake a gambler made was more money in his pocket, more vacations in Ibiza and another year at Eldridge for Jared.

“I would tell you I’m disappointed in you, but I think you already know that.”

Jared doesn’t look at him. Gerald’s voice is as matter-of-fact as ever, as though they’re discussing the weather instead of Jared’s future.

“You’re breaking your mom’s heart, you know. This will probably ruin your chances at getting into college.”

Jared clears his throat, a short stab of guilt piercing his chest. “I know.”

“Or at least, any college worth getting into. Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

Jared does, trying to muster up a spark of defiance and failing. He’s tired— getting expelled from school after covering for an ungrateful friend with benefits does that to a guy.

“I arranged with the school to make it look as though you withdrew willingly, but still, it’s going to look bad on your transcripts—like you couldn’t hack it.”

“How’d you pull that one off?”

“Donation,” Gerald shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “And a generous one at that.”

Jared almost laughs. It figures.

“But let me be perfectly clear,” his father says, leaning closer to Jared. He can smell the expensive booze on his breath. “There won’t be any more mistakes like this.”

“No, there won’t,” Jared agrees hollowly. Because there aren’t boys like Jensen Ackles in Texas. Hell, there aren’t boys like Jensen Ackles anywhere except at Eldridge.

He wonders if Jensen got his note yet or if he’ll see it at all. Even if he does, it won’t mean anything to him. After that last fight in the gym, Jared knew it was over.

In Larson’s office, he’d had about two minutes to think of something, his last words to Jensen, no time for apologies or explanations except _I’m not who you think I am._

He’s not who his father or grandfather thinks he is, he’s not the son his mother wanted him to be. For a while, he thought maybe he was Genevieve’s, but he’d known underneath it all that it wasn’t true. And most of all, he’s not the same kid who had taunted Jensen in class, who had thought he could get the better of Jensen because of a deal and a stupid bet.

Jared had been Jensen’s since the locker room, since the first time he’d touched him.  And Jensen had told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t having it every time he refused him, that he wouldn’t ever open up to Jared the way he wanted him to.

So he’d backed off. Of course, he hadn’t banked on Jensen’s reaction in the gym.

Jensen had said _is that’s what bothering you? That I won’t_ sleep _with you?_ And that wasn’t it—though Jared had wanted Jensen more than he’d ever wanted anybody. It was more that Jensen had always kept him at arm’s length. His defenses only weakened when Jared teased him and brought out that other side of him, the one that felt so damn close to letting go, the one that said his name like it was something sacred. So, yeah, he’d wanted to fuck him, to get closer and watch Jensen’s fortress walls fall away if only for a few moments.

As it is, he’s glad he never told Jensen about the one-way ticket to Austin-Bergstrom International that he’d bought for him for Christmas because he already feels like a jackass. Maybe he can give it to Genevieve instead. He likes the way she looks at him and she’s a good kisser and she’ll probably have sex with him if they see each other again as a kind of parting gift. Still, it’d only feel like a consolation prize and she doesn’t deserve his half-attention.

The fact is Gen’s going to get back with Tom during the summer, especially now that Jared’s gone. She might not know it yet, but Jared does. She still talks about him and he obviously still wants her. They’ll get bored and turn to each other as a last fling before Gen goes to college. Jared had been surprised to realize it was okay with him, especially now that he’ll never see either of them again. He’ll probably never see anyone from Eldridge from here on out.

Text messages had come pouring in after his expulsion, his phone vibrating every three seconds or so as it blew up with messages from Danneel, Genevieve, Chad, James Lafferty, Matt and pretty much everyone else he’d ever spoken to at school. A lot of the texts were filled with hate for Jensen or encouraging words. He didn’t bother to read the rest of them before his dad confiscated his phone. He doesn’t really care—Chad’s the only one he might see and the messages aren’t from whom he wanted them to be from.

Maybe this is what he needs, a fresh start and a clear head. Maybe he’ll even get to go to public school and play football, a whole world away from pretty-boy computer geeks and full of girls in cheer uniforms. God knew Texas schools would be willing to overlook a few private school misdemeanors if it meant getting a quality running back.

His grandpa would be thrilled to have Jared back in Texas playing ball— it’s his dad that probably won’t let him. As soon as they’re home, he’ll be researching another tight-ass boarding school to ship Jared off to, and that means trouble. That means guys in uniform coats and ties and everything that’ll make him remember how he spent his last fall semester at Eldridge.

Sure, none of them will be Ackles, but he can already see himself getting drunk and closing his eyes when he leans in, his fist bunched in some other guy’s shirt, someone who tastes like keg beer instead of peppermint, someone who makes him forget and remember at the same time. But maybe he won’t. Maybe it’ll never be like that again. Maybe Ackles was an exception.

Besides, he never wants to feel that way again; that shaky, out of control need that almost led him to get on his knees and beg in Jensen’s kitchen. He’d tried to pull away after that, but staying away from Jensen at Eldridge was like trying to swim upstream in a storm.

Worst of all was how Jensen had come to him in his dorm, so obviously angry and hurt and trying not to show it while Jared couldn’t do a damn thing to take his doubt away because he’d made up his mind: no more Jensen. Not on half-terms, because he couldn’t do it. He needed all or nothing, and he couldn’t have that when Jensen still talked about Chris Kane the way he did.

Jensen would get over it and go back to Chris and everyone would be happy. Except him, but that’s what he gets for thinking he can get away clean after messing with Jensen Ackles. And he hadn’t been lying when he said he couldn’t be with Jensen. His family wouldn’t let it fly if they knew, and keeping it a secret was risky even if he thought it could work.

He closes his eyes and thinks about lying on his bed at school, Jensen’s fingers in his hair, instead of being crammed in a plane seat with his knees practically under his chin and his disapproving father next to him.

His hand skims over a small lump in his pocket and he extracts a white Lifesaver mint, the kind Jensen kept on his desk, still in the wrapper. He lets it lie out flat on his palm, afraid to tear the packaging, like it’s some kind of relic, proof that Jensen had once let him into his life.  He craves the taste of it, of Jensen, but he’s afraid to eat it.

With a sigh, he scrunches his eyes shut and opens them again, tearing the plastic wrapper off and popping the mint into his mouth and rolling it around with his tongue. He’s being stupid.

Jensen Ackles isn’t good for him. Jensen Ackles thinks he’s a “spoiled, fucked up sociopath” and believes he’s the kind of guy who’d let private photos of him circulate the school. Jensen doesn’t trust him, tore him down when he was at his lowest, and still managed to find all of Jared’s sore spots without even trying. He’d let him get expelled and didn’t lift a finger to help him. In fact, he’d pointed all too willingly at Jared.

So maybe Jensen’s not the person he should be thinking about, but it’s not stopping him right now. He has all of Christmas break to think about how he shouldn’t be thinking about Jensen and how that last kiss in the dorm hadn’t felt like a goodbye. It’d felt like a _please._

_"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We will begin our descent into Austin in approximately—”_

Gerald glances at his watch then shakes his sleeve down again.

 Jared bites down on the mint, breaking it in half, and his ears pop.

Maybe somewhere in Pennsylvania, some thousand and more miles away, Jensen’s reading his note. Maybe Jensen’s thinking about him right now— good or bad, he doesn’t really care. He can even hate Jared if he wants, because Jared’s going to start over, move on, and never look back, even if he puts the mint wrapper right back in his pocket instead of throwing it away.

He’ll bury himself in girls, football, weed, and country music and won’t for a second think about how he can’t shake the feeling he hasn’t seen the last of Jensen Ackles, no matter what logic says. Jensen’s never going to apologize—he hardly ever did even when they were being civil to each other.

It’s stupid to hold out on hope, but Jensen was never the type to give up easily on what he wanted, and hadn’t he said _I want you_? Hadn’t he fixed all of that intensity on him the last time they’d kissed in Jared’s dorm?

He glances down at the glittering city below, a few heavy clouds obscuring his view of Austin. He closes his eyes, the flavor of the mint lingering on his tongue.

It’ll have to hold him until next time, until he can taste the real thing again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this as a oneshot PWP and obviously it got way, way out of hand. When I thought about why I wrote J2 the way I did, I realized that it was about the idea of love as a “battlefield.” Of course, it never has to be that way unless we make it. I enjoyed writing a slightly neurotic, not totally likable Jensen counterbalanced by a kind of wishy-washy, entitled Jared. Selfish people falling in love is bound to be a mess, and this is what came out of it. Also, apparently everyone at private school is gay. ??? That wasn’t intentional oops.  
> The next piece of this verse, which will cover winter, will definitely have a different tone and it’ll force Jensen to confront some ugly truths about himself. He and Jared are far from finished, and the next story will give more insight into Jared’s life, too.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading my first bigbang, and I hope reading BLB was a fun and probably slightly obnoxious experience. I have eight thousand other things I meant to say, but at this point I'm thrilled and exhausted and I'm ready to send this fic off into the world. See you next time!
> 
> PS: I'm also always looking for RP partners, people to beta my fics, and co-authors, so just drop me a line if you're interested in doing some writing / reading.


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